


Exhaust

by Spliced_Up_Angel



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Study, Comic, Comics, Explicit Language, F-bombs everywhere, Horror, Post-All Out War Arc (Walking Dead), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spliced_Up_Angel/pseuds/Spliced_Up_Angel
Summary: "No. It's not because of my scar! Carl, we all have scars, some are just not visible. Sure, it's not nice to look at- hell, I bet your eye ain't nice either- but it's a sign that we survived."Rated for vulgarity. Carl's POV. Comic AU. Takes place at the end of All Out War.What if Negan had won All Out War and had taken over more communities than he could handle? What if Carl was in the centre of all of the drama associated?A story of a young boy grown up in the apocalypse and his struggle to be loyal to his father as he finds out that there is more to the man he's vowed to kill.





	1. At Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am reposting this from my fanfiction account of the same name. If you wish to look at pictures I have had for inspiration, please click here: https://www.pinterest.ca/kittenskat/exhaust-inspiration/

He was behind the walls of Alexandria, watching attentively as his father fought off the son of a bitch that killed Glenn. Everyone was watching. Rick had drawn his knife and slit a fine streak into Negan's throat. The large fuck clutched his throat in pain, trying to stop the blood streaming from his neck. He fell hard onto his knees, obviously defeated. "Heh," Carl smirked to himself. There wouldn't be any problems anymore. Justice had been served.

"It's done! This war is over!" Rick announced, "We have a doctor who can save his life!"

 _Wh-what?_ Carl thought. His father couldn't be serious! That fuck was a danger to their community and this was against everything his damn father worked for!

"Surrender and allow us to take him, and we will not attack," the fearsome leader continued, "You can appoint a leader and return home. Decide now before he dies!"

Carl smirked to himself once more. There was no way that the Saviors were going to surrender. They had too much pride on their hands. A few more minutes of this and their leader would be lying lifeless on the ground, drowned in his blood. It was karma.

Carl's thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud. Carl jumped up in alarm. Negan had tackled Rick to the ground. The nerve of that guy! His assertion was just going to make him die faster! The preteen just wanted to experience the pleasure of watching that man die a slow, painful death.

"Oh god!" Maggie screamed, "Get the snipers on the wall! Hurry!"

She was silenced by Dwight, "stay back. Let them fight it out."

Carl gulped. This wouldn't turn out well at all. And he was right. All hell broke loose once Michonne, Jesus, Ezekiel, and the others ran in to intervene. As strong as Carl wanted to be, there was no way he could watch anymore of his friends die. He couldn't even look anymore. Carl needed to act now! He ran towards the tower, grabbing a rifle on the way. His eye wasn't even open at this point, he was just running, running –then stopped. _The fuck now?_ Carl thought. It was Maggie. She wanted help, why is she pulling me back? "Let me go!" he screamed, "you're not my damn mom! Stop acting like fucking Rick and let me go!" She was a lot stronger than she looked. When she failed to ease away, the boy took a hard bite at her bony arm.

"Ow! Fuck!" Maggie yelled, letting go of Carl. He saw his opening and made a break for it. "Dammit, Carl!"

Carl wasn't far now. He kept his eye on the ladder that pressed firmly against the walls of Alexandria. He just hoped that Andrea wouldn't be a bitch about him helping. Carl was strong too. He could do this himself! The boy climbed up the ladder as quickly as his small legs would let him. The adrenaline was pumping in his blood like gas in a car. He should have been heaving at this point, but his tiny lungs could take it. Carl was strong. He looked up to Andrea with a reassuring eye that said, "don't worry, I know what I'm doing." He looked over the wall to see that Negan had cracked Rick's leg in half and still wasn't done with him. "Fuck you," Negan bellowed. He was on Rick in a position that was difficult for Carl to make out what he was doing. Negan continued beating up his father until blood rained from his father's mangled body. It was clear that his father was dead. Carl blinked. No. He stood back, almost falling off of the gate. Andrea had to prop him up. He couldn't even look at her face. It would make him cry. Carl had learned to mask his emotion just as his father did. Carl was strong. And now it was clear that he was even stronger than Rick. But this wasn't fucking over.

The large menace stood up, hands on his hips, cackling at his own work. The fighting between the groups had stopped, though Carl didn't know exactly when. All he could see was the stunned faces of the Saviors, people of Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop. He forced himself to watch, not even wanting to look at what that crazy son of a bitch had done to his father. Negan turned around to face Alexandria, his pearl white fangs gleamed in the sun, showing the predator he truly was; Negan was the shark, they were the meal.

"I guess the war is over!" Negan yelled, smiling more gleefully than he should have after just murdering another damn person who was close to Carl. After he orphaned a child- made him watch his whole family die. "It's a damn fucking shame that you wouldn't agree to our rules. Maybe now you will get the hint that if you fuck us, we'll fuck your assholes so hard your anuses with fall the fuck out –kinda like Ricky right here." He lightly kicked Rick's foot. "See? You need us…." He continued.

Carl couldn't listen to this fucker for one more second! He raised his rifle up to his eye, aiming directly at Negan's head. "Hey Negan!" he yelled. "You kill, you die!" He abruptly shot at the lug. A single bullet brushed right through Negan's shoulder. Negan barely flinched. What?! There was only one bullet in there?!

Negan paused his speech and directed his attention to the confused boy. "I said the war is fucking over! Kid, I know you have a hole in your head, but I know you have a brain in there! I've seen it for fucking fuck's sake!" Negan smirked. Bastard. "Now someone fix my neck. Thank fucking Christ on a cock that he missed my fucking jugular!"

Carl had to come to terms. He was defeated. Alexandria was defeated. The hilltop was defeated. The kingdom was defeat. Rick Grimes was defeated. He felt a hand grasp firmly on his shoulder. He looked up at Andrea, smiling more crookedly than her scar, trying to keep tears in. She opened her mouth and whispered, choking back tears, sounding as if she was drowning, "it's okay to cry." He felt his eye water. He tried to hold back, but it was too strong. It hurt. All of it hurt. His stomach was wound tighter than Michonne's braids, his brain pounded as if it were a drum in a marching band. He held onto the older woman, who was closest he had to a mother. He would not let go. He held tightly onto her shirt, allowing his tears to soak through as hers was soaking his hair. _It's my fault…all my damn fault._


	2. Not Intentionally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Carl, I've told you a thousand times: if we're going to stay here, you need to stop causing trouble!"
> 
> "Well, sometimes trouble is needed!"

Chapter II: Not Intentionally

"Woah! You have bigger houses in here?! Now we're fucking talking! I'm getting hard just thinking about what I'll do in this new place!"

It had been a week since Negan and the Saviors had taken control. Negan decided that it would be "so cock-sucking, whore-fucking awesome" to move into the "big ass motherfucking houses that Alexandria has". So, Negan and a select few of Savors were moving in. As the town was struggling to rebuild itself from the war, his presence wasn't exactly welcomed.

The preteen had been walking around aimlessly for the past few days, trying to get stuff of his mind. Everyone had resumed to their previous jobs, while Negan's gang was sorting out housing arrangements. They had more than enough houses to go around, but Carl liked the empty houses. It gave him and Sophia time to explore and hide away from everyone else. She was the only one he could trust at the moment.

Carl remembered when his group first moved into Alexandria. Carl was still adjusting to the new way of life, but he couldn't possibly understand how the hell these people could ignore the outside. Rick constantly pushed Carl to go play with the other kids, but Carl wasn't a kid. He saw no point in running around aimlessly, using up the energy he could be building up if a horde were to come bursting through the walls. He saw no point in playing house or doctor's office because he was already playing pretend. How pretend was it going to get?

The only kid Carl could stand was Sophia. She was around his age, was still childish, but she understood what was behind those walls. Once Carl and Sophia had figured out that not all of the houses were occupied, they used to sneak into the back doors of the abandoned houses to explore and talk. This was Carl's new favourite thing to do. He was away from the weaklings and people who called themselves adults. He could ignore all the stupid bullshit that Rick used to say to him. "Go play with the boys!" "Carl! We don't attack people in here! They're not like us! They don't tolerate it!" Of course they weren't like them. Carl wasn't like them. Carl wasn't like anybody.

\---

Carl was sitting inside the upstairs office in one of the abandoned houses. The house was pretty much stripped clean of furniture and other luxuries, but he didn't mind the space. Sophia was sitting at the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with her legs pressed to her chest. Neither of them spoke a word. It was silent, yet comforting. Sophia smiled widely across the room at Carl. He gave her a glare that asked what she was looking at. Not being able to take anymore silence, Sophia began talking. She was talking more to herself than Carl- not her intention, but Carl liked this better than silence. Besides, he would always drown her out. Sophia was saying something about how Glenn and Maggie were letting her finally get her own room and how she was a little scared of being alone again. She said something else that made her freckled cheeks blush, her blonde hair quickly swerving away.

The conversation was put on hold by the sound of footsteps up the stairs. The steps creaked in an erratic trance. It was clear that there were multiple people. Carl's eyes shot up to meet Sophia's. Her face was so pale he'd think she was a walker and her eyes bulged out like Slinkys. He took off his father's sheriff hat and laid it on Sophia's head with a thump. "Don't worry, I'll protect you," he whispered. Stupid girls, always afraid of stupid shit.

"Ouu look! Carl's with his girlfriend!" a high-pitched voice mocked. Carl's head snapped towards the door to see Ron and his friends smirking devilishly. "Are you gonna kiss her? Mua mua mua! Ouuu Cootie Grimes!"

"Shut up!" Carl muttered. Sophia remained silent, moving closer to the back corner of the room.

"Oh yeah? Why? Your daddy's gonna protect you?" Neil, another child, responded.

Carl ground his teeth, trying to hold back his words.

"You're weak," Neil continued. Carl snapped. How dare he call him weak? He was the delusional one! Carl ran towards the smaller boy and pushed him hard to the ground. "Ow!" Neil cried, as he had chipped his tooth against the hardwood floor.

But Carl was far from done. Still on top, he began punching Neil in the face and chest. He stopped for a moment to whisper diabolically in his ear, "who's weak now?"

Carl went to get in one last punch, when someone grabbed his arm, pulling him up. Carl looked up into his father's eyes as they ripped apart the little boy's power. Carl gulped. He could hear the patter of Neil running downstairs, over-exaggerating his crying fit. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

One of Ron's other friends, Fatima, slowly brushed herself out of the room. He knew who snitched.

"I did the right thing," Carl muttered under his breath.

"I can't hear you, boy! For some reason, I heard that you said you did the right thing?"

"He wouldn't stop making fun of me and Sophia. He was making her cry and when girls cry, it's annoying," Carl responded. He was the one who was right. His father was getting just as weak as the community.

"Carl, I've told you a thousand times: if we're going to stay here, you need to stop causing trouble!"

"Well, sometimes trouble is needed!"

\---

Carl really wanted to leave for the Hilltop, but Andrea insisted that they stay back home for a while. Technically since he was orphaned, Andrea was his new mom, so he had to listen to her. There was no way he'd call her, mother, though. He wasn't as neurotic as Sophia. Carl scoffed. He hated being pushed around. He could take care of his damn self.

"Fuck off, Dwight!" he heard Negan bellow. "Why the fuck are you even here, you traitor? I should fucking fuck up more than your face, so maybe I'll be able to stand looking at you! Now get out of my sight before I bleach my fucking eyes!"

Carl watched as Dwight walked away, scuffing his shoes against the ground. As he passed by Carl, he looked up at him, "the hell are you looking at?"

"Nothin'." Carl responded coolly.

"You actin' as if I didn't lose something? All this bullshit and Sherry still decides to be with that prick! Motherfucker!" He sneered at Carl for a second, before softening up. "Hey, kid. I'm sorry, okay? Just need to cool off for a bit..."

Carl didn't respond. He honestly didn't give a shit about Dwight. He trusted nobody associated with that fuck. Dwight pushed his hair over his ear and went on his way.

He went to continue the opposite way when he heard Andrea calling out to him. He turned around, widening his eye. Andrea was excitedly running towards him with a big smile on her face. Her freckles bathed in her red blush as she panted once approaching the boy. She must have lost it! Carl didn't believe that she was alright. He felt she was in denial, blaming herself as she always did when someone she loved died… except she wasn't this way when Dale died. Pretending was not her way of coping; symbolism was her way. What was going on?

"Carl! Come with me! You need to see this!" she exclaimed, once she caught her breath. Her eyes were gleaming like a stars in a night sky. Before he could respond, she grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards the infirmary. What was going on? Were they getting ready for his dad's funeral?

Once they entered the infirmary, they were greeted by an unfamiliar man. He was slim, blonde and quite effeminate. The smile he wore was as if it were painted on his face, like a China doll. "Welcome! I have great news to tell you!" he exclaimed.

Carl looked at him suspiciously. He didn't even twitch his lip, "who are you?"

"Oh, darn it, sorry! I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Alex, a nurse at the Hilltop. I heard of the unfortunate accident that your doctor had to endure, so I took it upon myself to come down here and make myself useful for the time being!" His face was still gleaming. Carl blinked at him, waiting to be told why he was there.

Alex led Carl and Andrea into a hospital-turned room, where Maggie was standing over a bed. As Carl got closer, he couldn't believe his eye. "Dad?"

Rick looked terrible. His lip was fat, his eyes were black, and his face was so scratched up he was barely recognizable. Despite this, Rick was still able to stiff a smile. "Carl!" he exclaimed. Andrea stood close to Carl, putting her arm around his waist and pulling him in close.

"How?" Carl asked in disbelief with a smirk slowly formulating. He could have sworn that he saw Negan kill Rick! Was he dreaming?!

Andrea laughed, "Apparently Rick wasn't dead. After the war ended, Jesus went to pick up the body- he was the only one strong enough to do it- when he realized that your father was still breathing. He ran into town to find Maggie to go find Alex, and here we are. Rick's bad arm was broken up really bad and we're still trying to figure out what to do with his leg."

Carl still couldn't believe it. Even seeing his father like this wouldn't satisfy him. Negan needed to die. It couldn't wait any longer. "Can I kill Negan now?"

"What? Carl, what are you getting at now?" Rick asked weakly.

"You kill, you die," he blankly stated.

"Carl, you know we don't follow that anymore…"

"I don't care, he needs to be dealt with now-"

Carl was interrupted by hysterical laughter coming from behind him. He shot his head towards the door to see Negan standing there, hands on his hips, laughing loudly into the air. Carl didn't even get a chance to speak before Negan interjected. "Ah, man! You're killing me, man! Rick, your son needs be on television! Funniest little fucker around!" His face grimaced as he looked directly into Carl's eye. "Watch what your mouth does or else you'll find it on this dick one day!" He motioned to his crotch quickly and left the room.

Carl turned his attention back to Rick. "We really need to kill him."

"Don't worry. This war isn't over."


	3. Slaughtered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan was crazy and Carl knew that he had made a mistake. He risked his life for no reason and he knew Negan was going to kill him. Carl eyed the knife that he had dropped, its jagged edges that would be able to cut that bastard in numerous ways. If he had the chance to distract him, Carl could lunge for the knife and protect himself, maybe get a better angle to drive his knife into. He looked back up at the beast through a poker face.

The sun shined harshly into Carl's eye. He clenched his eye shut, trying to stay asleep for as long as he could. The boy rolled over with his back facing the window, throwing his covers over his head. Carl hadn't slept the night before as his night terrors were returning.

Carl stopped having night terrors a year ago when he got his eye shot out in the horde. Flashbacks of that moment when the light went out, when the pain was so unbearable he was paralyzed in place, feeling deader than the walkers that surrounded him. He couldn't sleep for months after that. But this terror was different. Every time he closed his eye, he saw his father being pushed to the ground, blood splattering everywhere. He felt the guilt rush through his veins… Rick's tanned face turning paler than the moon, his blood redder than squashed raspberries, turning to nothing but a juicy mess. Carl blamed himself. How could he be so stupid? He just stood there, watching his father be mauled by the giant beast of a man. Seeing Rick in the hospital, barely conscious, only made his guilt stronger. The only thing that would satisfy, him- wipe his guilt away- would be to see the blood of the man who caused the shed of many others.

Fed up with trying to get more sleep, Carl rolled himself out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eye. He reached over to his night table and retrieved his comb. He drowsily combed his hair, making sure to cover his deformity. Ugh, it disgusted him. He hated looking at it and hated thinking about it. He pulled a t-shirt over his head, hauled on a pair of jeans, and slipped his feet into his sneakers.

When he entered the kitchen, Andrea was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. From what he could tell, she had just gotten up as she only had on a robe. When she heard him come in, her head pipped up. "Morning, Carl," she warmly greeted him. "Do you want anything? Jennifer's tree finally grew in some apples if you want to try one. They're amazing!" Jennifer was a young Korean-American girl from Alexandria who was around Maggie's age. She had been tending to her tree since before the apocalypse, even burying her family underneath its shadiest area. When she told Andrea they would be getting fresh fruit, the woman couldn't bear to wait.

"Morning, Andrea," Carl smiled at her. It was hard to keep from smiling at her, even when he wasn't feeling his best. Andrea was going through a rough time, so he not looking happy would only make it worse. He walked over to the counter and picked up an apple, biting into it. Damn, he forgot how good apples tasted. It must have been two years since he'd had one.

"It feels like forever, since I got a full night of rest! How about you, Carl? I'm sure you are the happiest out of all of us to hear that your dad is still alive- I'm not even sure the news has reached the Hilltop yet!" she continued. It was so nice to see Andrea back to her old self again. Carl secretly missed it.

He nodded in response. Still munching on the fruit, he silently opened the knife drawer and swiftly took one out. He quickly shoved it into his pocket. Andrea was now turned to face him, as he leaned against the counter.

"Why don't you come sit down? It's okay to relax now for a bit. We can go see your dad later, if you want."

Carl looked back up at Andrea. "Um, it's okay. I think I'm actually going to go for a walk now."

"Okay…be safe, I guess," she responded, suspiciously. He really hoped it was more his imagination telling him that she was suspecting something was going on. He knew how Andrea got when she wanted to know something –especially when it came to him.

Before any other questions could be asked, Carl slipped out of the front door and into the town. The warm summer air hit Carl on his way out. It was only around 8:00, but the humidity was high that day. The sun scorched his skin as the boy walked through the town. It was early, however not too early for people to be out. Construction workers were outside rebuilding a house that had been burnt by Negan's men. Carl didn't recognize some of the men, so he assumed they were Saviors. He continued walking around. The streets were pretty quiet, which was strange for Alexandria. There would usually be the odd couple sitting on their porch or young children running around, but the streets were pretty much empty. Carl suspected that everyone was scared and didn't want to make any rash decisions that would make them end up like Rick… or worse Spencer. Carl grumbled. Negan was a damn nuisance to everyone and it was up to Carl to rid him of this world before anyone else close to him got hurt.

The boy reached his destination. He stood outside of the largest house at the end of the street. He breathed in and crept towards the side of the house, making sure to stay in the shadows. He walked slowly against the wall, until he got to the side door. He peaked inside to see that the room was empty. He slowly turned the knob and to his surprise, the door was unlocked. Carl slowly opened the door and pressed it carefully behind him. He crept to the ground and began crawling slowly. He heard a deep, demanding voice coming from the living room. He was in the right house. Carl crept towards the voice, making sure he kept from being seen.

"Jesus, Sherry! I've told you a thousand times, if you're gonna make me feel like shit, take your shit and leave!" he heard Negan yell, defensively.

"I'm not messing around, Negan. You need to stop snubbing Dwight. He said he was sorry!" a woman's voice yelled back, almost cracking with pain. Carl crept around the corner to see their feet. Their eyes were on each other, almost eating each other. Three other girls were sitting on a couch from across the room. They were watching closely, cringing back at the sound of Negan's growls. Carl glazed the room. Negan was standing in front of a large leather chair. He was bound to sit on at one point. The small boy crawled towards the couch, hiding silently behind it. Luckily Negan's wives were too petrified to notice.

"You need to stop sucking his dick like this because I'm suspecting there's some cheating going on!"

"What? Because I'm defending him? Jesus, Negan, get your head out of your ass!"

"Get my head out of my ass?! That fucker betrayed me! How am I supposed to trust him not to shove his dick into my wives?"

"You know me better than that! I'm not Amber. I wouldn't put either of you through that." Carl heard a spring squeak against the sitting giant. He looked from behind the couch to see that Negan had sit down. Carl quickly crawled behind the coffee table, making a bolt towards the back of the chair. Negan didn't seem to notice, so he sighed a breath of relief. He slid out his knife when he sat behind the chair. The boy realized that he had chosen a bread knife, sharp fringes were built against the blade. He placed it into his lap and stared at it, waiting for the right time to jump out.

"Of course you're not fucking Amber! She cheated and then just fucking left me because I let Mark die?! She was a mistake. Fuck!" he pounded his fist down on the hard leather, causing Carl, and probably Negan's wives to jump.

Silence filled the room. It was uncomfortable until Negan spoke. "I don't know, Sherry. These people are driving me fucking crazy! I can't take care of three fucking communities!"

"It's not your fault, Negan. They pushed you over the edge. You didn't want this to happen."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Sherry. It's just not fair to put all this on me. It's not like I fucking killed him."

Sherry didn't respond, so Carl assumed she nodded in agreement.

"Someone give me a fucking hug. I feel like shit right now, not even in the mood to fuck," the lug sighed. Carl took a peak from the side of the chair, watching as the man sat up, opening his arms wide. A black woman with an afro hair approached him. _This is my chance._ He gripped the knife, gluing it to his hand. Words continued to race through his mind. The anger was boiling so fast, he would go off like a kettle. _He killed Glenn. He killed Abraham. He almost killed my dad. He took our damn home. Fuck him._ Without giving it anymore thought, the small boy propped himself up onto the couch, quickly driving his hand towards the bastard's neck. "You kill, you die!" he chanted, driving the blade towards Negan's jugular. Before it could reach its destination, Carl felt a heavy grip crush his wrist, causing him to lose his clutch. He felt himself lift into the air, abruptly falling to the floor. He brushed himself off and stood up, glaring into Negan's fierce eyes. Bastard. Why wouldn't he just die already?

The predator squeezed his fingers around the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "Jesus, kid. Do you ever quit?" He smirked at the small boy. Carl's face remained stone cold, he wasn't going to waste his breath on anything but this dirt-bag. The giant roared with laughter, almost loud enough to shake the whole house. "Oh, man! You make the funniest fucking facial expressions! Like one side of your face is looking at me like, 'fuck you,' but the other side looks like you got fucked in the eye!" He continued laughing. Carl spat at the bastard. Negan's laughter halted. He looked over at his wives, "get the fuck outta here, girls. I need to have a talk with this little man right here. Thinks he's the motherfucking president, too good to take a god-fucking-damn joke!"

Once his wives left, silence filled the room.

"You killed my friends."

"Whoopti-fucking-do. You killed my men. We're even. Bam! Get over it! You're holding a grudge like a fucking bitch over here and I know you ain't no bitch. So stop with the bull-fuckery-shit-tits and talk to me like a man!" The giant climbed out of his chair, towering over the small boy. He picked up his baseball bat, laying it firmly against his broad shoulder. "Carl- your name's Carl, right? Go sit on that couch over there. Don't worry, boy, Lucille just wants to be in on the conversation. You know how girls are, she's quite the gossip." Negan grinned maniacally, his teeth ripping through Carl's eye. Carl scowled as the beast walked around in circles. He sat on the couch across from the demon. "Lookie here, kid, I'll let you in on a secret. I'm a pretty cool guy once you get to know me," he continued, walking closer to the pre-teen. "The problem is, Lucille isn't exactly cool all the time. In fact, sometimes she's a crazy bitch!" Negan screamed, whipping his bat a little too close to Carl's face. Carl flinched. What was up with that guy? He was smirking as if nothing had happened, his smile almost devouring the small boy's head.

Negan continued to walk around the room, trotting his weapon at his side. "Kid, I'm trying to be friends here. If you keep trying to kill me, I'm not sure how calm Lucille will be about it. She already sees you as a threat, man. Don't want somethin' to happen to your other eye, right?" Negan quickly whipped his arm, his bat barely grazing Carl's nose. When he noticed that Carl didn't react, his face went serious. "Sorry, I need to learn how to control my women."

Negan was crazy and Carl knew that he had made a mistake. He risked his life for no reason and he knew Negan was going to kill him. Carl eyed the knife that he had dropped, its jagged edges that would be able to cut that bastard in numerous ways. If he had the chance to distract him, Carl could lunge for the knife and protect himself, maybe get a better angle to drive his knife into. He looked back up at the beast through a poker face.

"What, kid? Not gonna say anything? Didn't realize you were a fucking mute!" when Carl didn't respond, Negan sat back down in his chair, sighing. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose, drooping his bat against the side of the chair with his other arm. The tone he used sounded defeated. He was clearly stressed about something, but Carl couldn't give a single shit. "Look, I know you came here to kill me, but at least fucking say something. You're scaring the shit out of me. You're like one of those possessed kids from those movies."

There was a long pause of silence. Carl debated if he would be able to reach his knife before Negan could get up and just get this over with. He glared at the object. It was a metre or so away from the couch. There was no way he would be able to get at it before Negan did to him what he did to Glenn. Carl's eye switched back on Negan. "You didn't kill my dad," he stated almost emotionless.

Negan cocked an eyebrow, clearly surprised at Carl's response. His head popped up. "Of course I didn't fucking kill him! I fucking admire that fucking fucker! Rick risked his life to save his people's asses! He's got hair on all of his balls from his cock to his eyes!"

Carl continued to glare at Negan. He couldn't believe this bastard for a second. Negan intended on killing Rick. He just failed, just as Carl's attempt to end his life.

"Kid, you're so cold. It's hotter than Satan's vagina outside, but you're making this place into Frosty's wet dream! Carl, I'm not trying to fuck this place up. I'm trying to make it better. It just so happens that Pops didn't like what I was doing, so now we're in this mess. I had to teach your people a lesson somehow!"

Carl sighed. He did make a good point. It still didn't excuse the bullshit he pulled on his group and the Hilltop through.

"Maybe you should re-think your way of doing things and not push people around. That's why my dad is actually liked around here."

"Well, fuck. I didn't expect that. I-I don't really have a response for that," Negan responded, dumbfounded. "You would need to give me more specific suggestions if it's gonna change here, that is, if you're not gonna fuck me over like fucking Dwight did."

"Are you trying to make a deal with me?" Carl was unsure about the man's intentions. The whole idea of seeing eye-to-eye with this idiot was sketchy.

"It damn sure seems like it! Let me know what Rick does around here to make his friends here get on their knees and beg for his cock!" Negan was persistent. The boy could see it in his eyes. Carl was still skeptical.

"What's in it for me?"

"Uh, damn. I don't fucking know? Do you want one of my girls to give you a ten minute blow-j? A fucking parade in your honour? I'm open to suggestions."

"I want you to leave," the boy muttered.

"Like leave my house? C'mon I just moved in! Barely got to claim my territory! If you give me a second, I'll go over there and piss on the floor for a bit."

"Nobody wants you here!" Carl growled. If this was his chance to get rid of Negan, he was going to take it. Even if it meant him staying alive for a little longer.

Negan let out a jolly laugh. "Okay, okay, okay. I have a better idea. You, kid, you are angsty as fuck. How about I make some time in my day to listen to your problems. You remind me a lot of how I was when I was your age, I could probably give you some life advice." Negan grinned eagerly.

What the hell was he going on about? "Not a fucking chance."

"Do you see me fucking telling people about the drama I have with my girls? Fuck no! It's none of their business! Like who am I gonna fucking tell? It'll be between you, me, and Lucille here. Hell, I can kick her out right now! She wouldn't like it, but I'll make it up to her later… if you know what I mean…" he raised his eyebrows up and down.

 _Ugh! That's sick!_ Carl thought. He went to get up, but was stopped.

Negan stood up from his chair, gently laying his bat against the seat. He walked over towards Carl's knife and picked it up. He towered over the small boy once he walked over to the couch. Negan laid it in Carl's hands. "Here kid, your knife. Don't let me fucking catch you using it on me. And think about it, okay? You have serious problems and it's not like I have anything better to do anyway. Now get the fuck outta here and go play or some shit! I don't know what kids these days do!"

Carl slowly got up from the couch, gripping the knife so hard his hands almost merged with the handle. He glanced back at Negan before leaving the room. _There's no way I'm letting that fuck into my thoughts._


	4. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they reached a spot where they could visually see the stage, the tensions began to run through Carl's veins. He was standing, almost directly where the one person he wanted dead more than anyone would be. He knew that he needed to keep his cool, so he focused on the guard who was standing against one of the houses behind the stage, lighting a smoke. Before he could focus anymore, his worst enemy slapped the back of the guard's head, causing him to drop his cigarette. Negan said something to the man that made him frantically get out his gun and return to his position. Negan then turned and grinned that devilish grin, his teeth gleaming in the sunset. He made his way towards his stage in an intimidating swagger that caused many people in the audience to gasp.

Carl sat on the comfy fabric couch, slouching into the soft cushions. Christ, he was stressed. He had decided to visit Sophia at her Alexandria home to get his mind off of all the bullshit going on. Sophia and Maggie had a main house that they stayed at in The Hilltop, but they also had a house in Alexandria that they would share with Jesus. It was their old house from when they lived in Alexandria, so they conveniently used it when going on overnight trips. Due to the stress of the war, Maggie preferred they stay in Alexandria. She had claimed to be staying until she was sure that Rick was feeling better, but Carl knew she was worried because Negan was there. She was the only one who hated Negan more than he did. She absolutely resented him and Carl didn't blame her after witnessing what he did to Glenn. If Carl could, he would gut the bastard right in front of her so she can watch him experience the fate her husband did.

He was alone inside of the family room with his own thoughts. Maggie had let him in and told him Sophia would be down in a bit. She looked stressed out, so he decided not to pry too much as he watched her go back into the kitchen to talk to Jesus. He had barely touched the peanut butter sandwich that she gave him. He wasn't hungry. Thoughts of the barbaric Negan destroyed his appetite. It made the boy sick. He wished he could rip up his thoughts with the knife that should have been in Negan's skin. But he wanted to cool down. He wouldn't waste any thoughts on that fuck any more that day, he was eager for Sophia to come down to distract him. Carl could hear the water from the shower clash on the ground like rain. He slouched further, trying to get comfortable, focusing on the sound of the shower. The water was like static from a TV, just streaming in a continuous motion.

He closed his eye and took in his surroundings. Carl imagined himself standing outside in the rain. His clothes were muddy and wet as he had been jumping in puddles all day. No matter how many times his mother told him to get inside the house, he wasn't going to listen to her. He was in his own world. He was alone…

He heard the shower switch off and the patter of feet scurrying down the stairs. "Carl! I am so happy to see you!" Sophia's voice rang above him.

Carl lifted his head and smiled. "Hi, Sophia."

She sat on the couch beside him, causing the cushions to hop. She turned to face him with smile brighter than her hair. "My mom brought me to go see your dad today. He was asleep so my mom told me not to disturb him, but it was nice to see his face. He looks really bad, but I'm happy he is recovering!" she said in what felt like one breath.

"Yeah," Carl responded with barely any emotion.

"What's wrong Carl?" Sophia asked touching his arm, he smiled in reassuringly. "I'm glad your dad is alive… if only my dad was still alive." Carl knew she was referring to Glenn. He understood that she used forgetting as a coping mechanism, but it really concerned him. Carl hated that she was lying to herself, it wasn't fair. He could tell that she was trying to hold a smile. He knew she was jealous, but she kept it to herself. That's what he liked about Sophia: she knew how to make others feel comfortable…Carl was jealous of that.

"I'm glad he's doing well," he responded coolly, "Andrea told me that we can go a bit later, it'll be nice to see him again. I'm missing him nagging me, to be completely honest with you." Carl couldn't help but smirk, bringing a blush to his face. He looked down to hide it.

"Aw, Carl! It's okay to miss him! I miss my daddy, too!" the smaller girl threw her scrawny arms on him in a deep hug.

"Thanks, Sophia," Carl chuckled. There was something about Sophia that calmed him down. She always tried to appear positive, even when she should be hurting. When she spoke to Carl, she knew when to keep her distance. They could sit beside each other without a word for hours. Carl loved the silence as much as her company.

"How is your eye feeling?" he heard her murmur innocently through his shirt. He gently pushed her up, allowing her to lay her head on his shoulder. Their relationship was purely platonic- no matter what the other kids said.

Carl smiled, moving his head so his good eye was looking at her. "It's pretty good actually. Andrea has been on my ass about putting on the medication so it won't get infected. I guess people bossing me around isn't always that bad?" Carl laughed.

"I know you're kidding. You hate being bossed around," she said through a smirk.

"That's because my dad never lets me do anything," he said with a sigh. "I'm old enough to do things for myself, to make my own decisions. Everyone knows that I'm more mature than ninety percent of the adults here."

"Th-that's true. You always protect me! You should be able to do what you want!"

Carl chuckled. Sophia's eyebrows narrowed as she lifted her head off his shoulder. "Of course, I'm strong enough to take care of myself…I'm not some sissy girl!"

Carl continued laughing at her. She was cute when she got assertive. Sophia was a liar and she made a pretty damn convincing one…Well, she was good at convincing herself, at least.

"Stop laughing at me! I'm gonna go tell mom and you're gonna get in trouble!" she threatened, which made him laugh harder. She huffed a breath and crossed her arms. "You are no fun, Carl Grimes. Maybe getting a gunshot to the head gave you brain damage after all."

Carl's laughing stopped abruptly. His stomach suddenly began to hurt. The boy couldn't control his emotions when someone brought up his deformity. Carl was self-conscious, so much so that he struggled not to cry. _Why does everyone keep bringing up my goddamned deformity? It doesn't fucking define me!_ He was a fucking emotional wreck. That's what the apocalypse does to you. _Harden the fuck up, man. Sophia doesn't need to see you cry like some pussy!_ He fought his tears back, but refused to look at her. _Goddammit, why am I so fucking ugly?_

"Carl…" he heard Sophia whisper. She paused for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry. I was upset at you for joking around. I shouldn't-" he heard her sniffling. He shot his head up. Sophia was the most emotional of them all. The apocalypse hit her the hardest, having to watch her mom commit suicide and her adoptive father have his face bashed in.

"It's okay," he said quickly, saving her from having a breakdown. "Let's change the subject. I'm not mad at you," he forced a smile.

She sniffed and looked back at him, "a-are you sure?"

"Yeah, I know you didn't mean anything by it."

Her lips slowly curved upwards. "Do you want to play cards or something… like old times?"

"Only if you aren't gonna ask me to be your boyfriend again," Carl winked. Sophia's freckled faced flushed tomato red as she giggled.

About an hour had passed and at this point the kids weren't even playing anymore. They were making up their own rules and throwing cards at each other. As much as he hated to admit it, Carl loved being distracted from the shit storm beyond the walls- or in the walls currently.

"I wonder how long my mom will let you stay here for," Sophia stated after their third game of Crazy Jacks and Fish.

"Whenever, I guess," he responded with a shrug. "Andrea doesn't really care when I get home as long as I actually show up."

"Um, Carl?" Sophia looked down at her hands. "Can I ask you a question? Y-you can say no!"

"Shoot."

"Umm…Why don't you call Andrea mom?" she whispered, barely loud enough for a mouse to hear.

What kind of question was that? She knew he wasn't delusional like she was. He accepted this reality as it was, not make up some dumb fantasy. "Because she's not my mom. My mom is dead. I watched her die with my sister," he responded coolly.

"Oh… um…" Sophia twiddled with her tiny fingers, "she might as well be your mom-"

"It's different than you are with Maggie," Carl explained. "You wouldn't understand, it's complicated." Why the fuck did she care so much?

"I-she's with your dad so I thought it made sense…"

"Maggie adopted you," he sighed, "Andrea is my friend."

Sophia sighed, but didn't look up. Carl watched as she twiddled with her hands, rocking her legs back and forth. Her feet could barely touch the ground. Her face was emotionless. He couldn't tell if she was upset or just had nothing to say. He could hear Jesus' loud laugh from the kitchen. Wine glasses clinked together as if a glockenspiel was being played in his ears. Maggie and Jesus continued laughing, this time it was soft and slow. Carl looked back at Sophia. She was still in the same pose. He hoped that he hadn't hurt her.

"I'm not happy about Negan being here," he heard her murmur still looking at her hands.

"Yeah…" he sighed. They were on the one topic he didn't want to think about. Carl accepted that he would always be prey to that subject.

"What he did to both of our dads -It's okay if you need to cry…"

"It's not like he died like your dad."

She looked at him with bloodshot eyes. Tears ran down her freckled cheeks.

"I think we both need to cry," she said in barely a whisper. He could tell that she was holding this in for a long time. He felt so bad that he wanted to cry. There was so much pain that this man inflicted on them.

Carl held tears back from escaping his eye. He held Sophia, who was sobbing so hard she was choking. He laid her head on his lap and laid one of his hands on her head. He felt water trickle down from his eye as he was beginning to lose his cool. Carl put his other hand on his face to wipe away the tears, but they were too much. He forced himself to keep his hand on the girl's head. He didn't want her to feel his tears on her face. She needed to believe that at least someone wasn't vulnerable in this messed up world. _Shit_ , he thought. He was feeling like ten emotions at once as the tears he had held back for many years streamed down his face like Niagara Falls.

After a while, she looked up at him. She noticed his eye was red, too. Carl didn't care at this point if she knew he was crying. Sophia was the only person who would never judge Carl. She was the only person who knew who he truly was. He sighed, allowing the last of his tears fall out, as he grabbed a handful of tissues from the end table at his side. He wiped the snot off the girl's face. "You, okay?" he asked.

She nodded, sitting up, wiping her face with her hand. "I think so. Are you?"

"Yeah."

Their conversation was disrupted by a loud knock at the door. They silently watched Maggie emerge from the kitchen, fixing her short hair and adjusting her shirt. She opened the door and was conversing with the stranger on the other side. They watched her nod and close the door.

She stood in front of them with her arms crossed. She sighed, not looking happy about what she had to say. "Do you know who was at the door?" she asked them.

How the hell was Carl supposed to know?

"It was one of Negan's Saviors," she answered her own question, "he said Negan is calling a meeting and wants the town to come."

"Fuck no," Carl responded.

"Really? The f-word, Carl? You know that Negan is the last person in the world that I want to see, but he's calling a town meeting. This could be important so you two should come."

"I guess," Carl responded. "Can I think about it?"

"No," Maggie responded firmly. "You are going. There. I decided for you. Now grab your stuff and get ready for the meeting. It starts soon."

Carl and Sophia looked at each other with the same expression. _Great._

_\---_

It was evening by the time Carl, Sophia, Maggie, and Jesus arrived to the meeting. Negan had decided to hold the meeting in the middle of the town. People from Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom all gathered around a makeshift stage, made of wooden crates they used to store jars. Fifty armed Saviors were situated at both sides of the stage. They looked bored out of their minds, but still managed to look intimidating. They passed the armed men as Sophia moved closer to Carl. He could feel her shaking with fear, so he took off his hat and placed it on her head. That way, she knew he would protect her.

"Sophia, sweetie," he heard Maggie's voice chime in, "you don't need to be scared. I'm right here with you and," she pulled the handle of a gun out of her pocket just enough so Sophia could see. She then pointed over to Jesus, who still had his sword packed in his armour. He gave them a smirk. Sophia relaxed, giving Carl some more space, but enough that she could hide behind him.

"There are so many people!" Sophia whispered in amazement. Carl couldn't help agreeing with her. The war was so mind consuming that he didn't even get to process how huge the human population was.

Once they reached a spot where they could visually see the stage, the tensions began to run through Carl's veins. He was standing, almost directly where the one person he wanted dead more than anyone would be. He knew that he needed to keep his cool, so he focused on the guard who was standing against one of the houses behind the stage, lighting a smoke. Before he could focus anymore, his worst enemy slapped the back of the guard's head, causing him to drop his cigarette. Negan said something to the man that made him frantically get out his gun and return to his position. Negan then turned and grinned that devilish grin, his teeth gleaming in the sunset. He made his way towards his stage in an intimidating swagger that caused many people in the audience to gasp. He climbed on the stage and scanned his surroundings until he stopped on Carl. Carl tried to look away, but his eye wouldn't let him. The monster's eyebrows looked like they would fly off and slowly rip through his skin like the strings in _Audition_.

The monster looked out to the audience, smiling gleefully. "Wow! God fucking damn! I didn't expect to have such a great motherfucking turn out! I'm like fucking John Bon Jovi and y'all are horny, middle aged broads!" His face got serious as the crowd got tense. "I don't know why you fucking assholes won't listen to me! I provide, provide, and motherfucking provide for your damn selfish lives! Well, I'm done! Things are gonna change the fuck around here so get the dicks out of your hands and listen up!"

There was whispers throughout the crowd. Carl felt Sophia grab onto his arms and hide behind him.

"Yeah! They're gonna fucking change around here! You!" he exclaimed, pointing at a blonde, pimple-faced, boy who couldn't be older than sixteen. "Yes, you. Come here, boy! I'm not gonna fuckin' make you suck my dick!" The boy approached him, awkwardly standing next to the stage. Negan knelt down and put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Um," the teenager was shaking, "Chad?"

"Chad," Negan repeated to the crowd, "Motherfuckin' cunt lickin' Chad. Say hi to everyone, Chad!"

The boy waved so uncomfortably that it made Carl cringe.

"Where the fuck are the manners in this fucking community? Acting like this is a goddamn palace and this man is your whore! Say hi to fucking Chad, everyone!"

Soft, uneven monotone voices flood the space. _The fuck is this?_ Carl thought, _Does he think this will actually work? You stupid fuckin-_

His thoughts were disrupted by Negan's loud voice. "Now, Chad, get on your knees and undo my pants!"

"Wh-what?" the boy was shaking, making Carl even more uncomfortable, if possible.

"You fuckin' deaf, kid? Need Jesus to come over here to perform fuckin' miracle on you?"

Carl watched as Chad gulped and got down to his knees, facing Negan's jeans. He slowly moved his hands towards the zipper and –

"The livin' fuck are you doing, kid? You didn't think I was actually fucking serious! I know I'm desirable, but I ain't no homo!"

The boy awkwardly stood up, he turned around, keeping his head down. Carl could tell Chad was embarrassed. _The hell?_

Negan's laughter echoed through the town. "Did you-did you see his fucking face? Shit! I think I'm gonna piss all over the place! The kid was actually gonna do it! He was actually gonna suck my dick!"

Everyone else was silent, just as confused as Chad was. Chad whispered something to Negan and got the approval to go back to his spot.

Negan got himself together and continued his rant. "Okay! Time to address the real reason why I brought you here today. That was just some fun I was having. Chad knows there's no hard fucking feelings, right Chad? Chad and I are so fucking close that he might as well be a side fuck. Alright," he cleared his throat, "I don't like this 'I-do-what-I-want-fuck-Negan' attitude that has been going around. Do you not realize that I have been the one supporting you from the beginning? All I wanted was just a little tiny itsy fucking bitsy amount of your stuff so my people could survive. Now we're in this mess! Worst of all, some people out here are trying to fuckin' kill me! Come on, we're not savages. We're just trying to fuckin' make ends meet here. You fuckers listen up!"

"Are you gonna use the iron on them, sir?" a Savior called from the back.

"The iron? What? No, I'm not gonna use the fuckin' iron! I'm trying to change here, try to figure out why these people are being fuckin' scrotums! Besides, I'll only use it if you try to fuck my wives… I'm sure you won't be fucking my wives, right?" He was pointing at a little girl with black braids. The mother quickly covered her daughter's ears and glared at the bastard. "So please, get your shit together and do your fuckin' work! I don't know why ya'll are being so damn difficult! Rick is o-fucking-kay! In the next few weeks he will being doing pirouettes and shit all over the fucking place! Re-fucking-lax and get laid! Oh yeah! My men will be hanging around in your communities for a while, you know, to make sure you're not yankin' my dick here. They know what to do if you don't listen, and it won't be pretty," he threatened. His jolly smirk returned to his face as he threw his arms up in the air. "Now let's have a good fucking time and not piss each other off anymore! Thanks for listening, everyone! You can have the night off, but you better all be fucking working by tomorrow morning. Sleep tight!" he blew kisses as he exited the stage, as if the murmuring crowd was cheering and throwing flowers at him.

"Fuck him," he heard Maggie mutter to herself as she grabbed Sophia's arm to leave.

Carl remained in place, just standing, staring at the empty stage that his worst enemy was just standing on. People rushed around him like the walkers did a year ago. _I can't believe this guy! Open threats? That's his plan to make people like him?_ Before long, Carl was standing alone. It was dark as the sun had already gone down. He breathed in the cool air and made his way towards the infirmary.


	5. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you're not going to give me a good enough reason, I'll have to fight you," Carl shrugged. He quickly reached into his pocket, switching out the blade. Before the taller man could think, Carl swiped the blade against his cheek in a long, bloody streak. Carl stood back as the man glared at him. Carl knew he could take him. Negan's guys were all talk; he could kill him with his eye closed.

Carl sighed, opening up the door to the infirmary building. He walked through the narrow hallway to be greeted by Andrea's bitter face. She was not happy. "Where have you been? You were supposed to go see your dad today!" The creases of her forehead were straighter than the scar running up her cheek.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Carl sighed, rolling his eye. He was sick of people giving him shit today. Seeing Negan and watching Sophia cry made his day bad enough already. The tween was not in the mood for a lecture- he'd let Rick do that.

"Carl, be nice to Andrea!" He heard Rick's powerful voice call out. His voice was back to normal, so Carl assumed he was getting better. He gave Andrea a quick smile as he squeezed past her, approaching his dad's bed. Rick was sitting upright, his leg was leveled up, tightly bound in a cast. The wounds on his father's face were also healing up well. It had been clear that Alex didn't feel the need for anymore bandages. He thought maybe his dad would be out quicker so they could devise a plan on what to do about Negan. After that meeting, Carl knew his people wouldn't put up with it and it wouldn't be long before someone snapped and started a revolt. It would be up to Rick to step up and become the charismatic leader once again and push the bastard out. Negan needed to die; no matter how serious his father's granola-phase was.

"How are you doing, Dad?" Carl smiled, standing at his father's bedside.

"I'm doing a lot better. Gonna be in the hospital for a bit longer, though. My leg is a lot worse than Alex initially thought it was. I'm apparently not going to walk the same again." Rick sighed. Carl knew how much his father needed his strength. Running the community would be a lot more difficult without his mobility.

"Shit, Dad."

"Watch your language," Rick quickly retorted.

"Sorry..." he grumbled, rolling is eye.

"Have you been taking care of your eye?" the man questioned.

"Yes, Dad," he sighed. Rick needed to stop treating him like a kid already! Carl wasn't completely sure how old he was, but he was sure he was at least twelve. Had the apocalypse really been going on that long? They had stopped celebrating birthdays and holidays long ago. Those things didn't matter anymore. There was no need for Carl to dress like a fucking sheriff like some lame-ass kid.

His father placed his arms in his lap. He spread out the fingers on his hand and sighed. "So what happened during that meeting Negan called? Up to no good, I don't doubt."

"Nothing really, just empty threats," Carl and Rick shook their heads in disbelief. "He wants everyone to get back to work tomorrow. I guess I'll be given a new job, if you let me."

Rick gave Carl a stern look directly in the eye. "You should be in school. You missed a lot because of the war."

"What good is school going to serve me if our intent is to survive? I'd rather be pulling my weight around, Dad."

"Okay, but careful. I don't trust Negan one bit. Don't let him take you out of the walls. You're my son, so knowing him, he'll find a way to get you bit. As soon as I get out of here, he'll regret taking my community!"

"Don't worry. Negan is nothing I can't handle." he reassured him. His father was so worrisome, but he couldn't blame him. Rick's injuries could cause a huge strain on planning.

"Be careful," Rick repeated firmly.

Carl sighed. "I will, I will..."

"What happened to your hat?"

He frantically felt his head. Damnit. He forgot to get it back from Sophia. "I forgot I lent it to Sophia."

"Sophia's a nice girl, growing up real well." Rick teased with a wink.

"We're just friends, Dad..."

Rick laughed hard at Carl. He gave his son a gentile smile. "I really miss you, Carl. As soon as I get out of here, your old man is gonna be cramping your style all the time. You will never have any personal space!"

Carl laughed and pushed his father playfully.

"I'm going to get some sleep, son," Rick said with a sigh. He stretched his arms behind his head. "Go tell Andrea to bring you home. I think we all need to sleep."

"Goodnight, Dad." Carl walked towards the door.

"Goodnight, Carl. I love you."

The boy stopped in his place and looked back. "I love you too, Dad. Get some rest," he grinned.

He slowly walked to the doorway. He knew that he shouldn't be nervous, but his it was his Dad. Carl had never seen him in such a state. What if he couldn't run the community? Michonne was at the Kingdom with Ezekiel and Gregory was in charge of the Hilltop. Who would take charge? _Hey, Stupid. Why are you being such a pussy? Dad's going to be okay!_ He stood at the door and gave the bed one last look. _He is going to be okay._

_\---_

He met up with Andrea, who was leaning against the opposite wall reading an outdated Teen Pop magazine. When she noticed his presence, she quickly hid the magazine behind her back. She looked down bashfully. "My sister liked reading these before... you know..." Carl nodded in response. He wasn't going to judge her. Heck, Carl even caught himself reading old cookbooks that Lori would like.

"Hey, I think Dad's going to sleep now," he told her.

"I think I'll stay back for a while." She yawned, stretching her arms. "You think you get some morphine from the inventory?"

"I would, but doesn't everyone have the night off?" Carl asked.

"I don't think the members of the Sanctuary are... one of Negan's guys are taking over for Alex...not sure how reliable their doctors are."

"Sanctuary? Isn't Olivia in charge of the rations?"

"She came crying to me today because Negan doesn't trust fat people around food. He thinks she's stealing...so one of his guys are apparently running it."

 _Great_ , Carl thought, _more meatheads._

"What's with that face? There's no need to worry, I think Olivia mentioned another girl."

"I guess..." Carl mumbled. Knowing Negan, he could have put a man in a dress on duty for all he knew.

"Okay! I'll see you at home," Andrea smiled big, pulling the young boy into an uncomfortable hug. She let go when Carl didn't put his arms around her. Carl gave her a weak smile and left.

\---

"Awh! Goddamn it! I want to go home!" He heard a girly voice whine. Carl had opened the door to the inventory to see a short, skinny woman with pale skin and charcoal hair held back by a rope string. He would be lying if he said she wasn't attractive. She had large dimples that flashed through her small eyes. She wasn't curvy, but definitely not flat. Her rosebud coloured lips were plastered into a frown to match her angry arms that were crossed in a pout. "What do you want? Was supposed to be home an hour ago, but apparently Negan gave your people the night off... I swear, one day..." Her voice was laced with a thick southern accent. Carl assumed she was from South Carolina- a long ways from Washington.

"How about you not be rude and find me some morphine," Carl deadpanned. This girl was ridiculous. Who put her in charge?

"Jesus, you got some mouth on ya! How much you gunna smoke?"

Carl was taken aback. He blinked before responding. "I'm not going to smoke it."

"What do you need it for?" She asked clawing through the supply cabinet. With her back turned, Carl could see that her bright red shirt hung low and wide, barely fitting her tiny figure.

"None of your business" he scoffed.

"You're so gunna smoke it," she looked over her shoulder and gave him a cheeky grin. "Tell me how it is, haven't tried yet...Christ, it's good to be out of that factory! Sure, I was fed and shit, but y'all have so many houses! I can finally have my own room instead of sharing with fucking Margret! Her damn baby never knew how to shut up! I was this close to feeding the little shit to the Biters out there, you know?" She turned around, flinging the box of morphine into his arms. "They really should use the point system here," she continued, "can't have people abusin' our supplies to get high."

"I told you I'm not smoking it. It's for my Dad!" He snapped. She was a piss off.

"Okay, fine, whatever. Party pooper... I swear...things were so much chiller at the Sanctuary…" she mumbled into her clipboard. "Let me write this shit down and I'll see you out..."

Carl watched as she quickly recorded the inventory. She was fast with a pen, curving her arm as she finished.

"Okay! I can finally get home! Christ, I just wanna lie down forever!" She yawned, pulling her arms behind her head. She let her hair loose from the rope and wrapped it around her waist to make her shirt more fitted. Carl followed her out the door, firmly holding onto the morphine.

They made it out to the street. It was dark outside and the silence was driving Carl nuts. "Why did Olivia get replaced?" he asked.

"Psssh like the fuck I know. Apparently Negan doesn't trust her 'cause she's fat and probably eating all the food? I know, what an asshole, right? No wonder she won't put out..." she shook her head.

"Why do you even trust Negan?"

"Jeez Louise, I wish people would stop asking me that. Sure he's an ass, but he took in my family and his guys saved my life. I guess I ought to owe him somethin'. Plus where the fuck else would I go? You gotta give him a chance. He ain't so bad all the time...just most of the time. He has a soft side, trust me."

"I'll keep that in mind." He deadpanned. She laughed hard. He had trouble believing her. There was no way even the Saviors could stand Negan! He made a mental note to keep an eye on her.

"Now it's my turn not to mind my own business. Why do you cover your eye? It ain't 2008 anymore. Tryna bring the scene phase back?"

"Uh no."

"Well, you're fun... no wonder you're not gonna smoke that shit. You know what? You should give it to me instead of wasting it!"

"Tough," Carl said sternly. He then gave her an amused grin. She was queer, but the boy decided to humour her.

"Ha! I like you! What's your name?'

"Carl."

"No shit? Carl Grimes? No wonder you cover your eye! Your father is Rick Grimes, eh? He's famous around here...guess it makes us enemies!" She softly giggled. _Damn, that's cute. She's not that bad when she isn't obnoxious. I can't even tell who is worse: her or Negan…_ "I'm Rosalie Hotaru. Don't wear it out."

Carl nodded in response. He wasn't doing it to be cold, he was just stuck questioning how she knew so much information about him. How much were people telling her? The Saviors were still enemies in his mind -just another inconvenience his community needed to cast out. She continued talking as they sauntered down the street. Carl wondered if she ever shut up, but didn't mind too much since he was good at drowning people out. Instead, he focused on her movements. He watched her eyes slowly blink as her lips moved like a cheetah. Her dark hair popped up and down as she was almost skipping down the road. _She's so damn hyper_ , he thought. He was interrupted by an abrupt stop. They stood in front of one of the regular sized houses.

"Well, here's my spot. Tell me how fucked up you get with that morphine," she winked. "See you later, Carl Grimes." He watched as the girl bolted up the steps and slipping through the door. She was weird.

\---

Carl opened the front door of his house. He entered the kitchen, finally able to cool down. Andrea was sitting at the table, engaged in one of her books. She didn't seem to notice him enter. He decided it would be best to apologise to Andrea. She didn't deserve this shit and to be frank, Carl knew he was acting up more now. He decided that he should stop taking it out on her- she was dealing with a lot more bullshit.

He threw the morphine on the table in front of her, making her jump. "Here."

"Christ, Carl!" She spat out before picking up the package and examining it.

The boy sat in the chair beside the blonde, cracking his knuckles. "Hey, Andrea. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been treating you like shit lately and you don't deserve it after...all this." He looked deep in her eyes.

"Hey, its all good. You have a right to be a little asshole- you're a kid!" She smirked. That's what he liked about Andrea- she let him say what was on his mind, no matter how many swears. "Plus," she continued. "Its my job! Without Rick here, I'm the parent of the house!"

"No, you're my friend," he deadpanned. Why would she bring this up? Carl trusted her to not bring this up.

"Jesus, Carl. You're turning as stubborn as your father. You don't consider me your mom after all this?"

"I'm not Sophia, so no."

She sighed and looked away. She was clearly upset with his answer. _Why is she offended? What did I do?_

"I'm sorry," she sighed without looking up. "I just thought you needed a mother figure and pushed myself on you...it isn't right."

"You miss Ben and Billy." Carl realized. _Damn I'm stupid_ , he thought.

"Yeah...and Dale."

"Do you see Dale in my dad?" Carl sure didn't.

"No. I see a lot more in Rick. I feel like I'm not forcing myself into a lie. Sure, I loved Dale, but not for the right reason... I guess I craved companionship after Amy died. I was afraid of being alone."

"Yeah..." Carl wouldn't admit it, but this was why he always pushed people away. No attachment meant no pain. Pain is a sign of weakness in this world. "I'll call you Mom."

"No, not if you don't want to!" She blushed. "It's too much of a personal choice. I don't want to undermine what Lori was to you. Forget what I-"

"Mom was weak. She wasn't fit for this world," Carl chimed in.

"How could you say that? What the hell?"

"Carol was weak, too, so was Glenn. Maggie is strong so is better suited for Sophia. You're better suited for me- you can't deny that...plus I miss having a mom a lot..." Where was all of this coming from? Carl wasn't even speaking out of his ass! He truly felt sincere about the words coming out of his mouth and it scared him. Becoming this close to someone was not one of his future goals.

"Th-that means a lot to me." Her eyes began to tear up, "now don't die on me now..."

\---

Carl was awoken the next morning by a loud bang at his front door. _The hell?_ He pulled himself out of bed, rubbing his good eye. He brushed his hair into his face, pulled on some pants and slipped on some shoes. He sniffed his undershirt and felt it was clean enough. Carl grabbed his pocket knife off his side table and slid it into his pocket just in case. The boy quickly hurried down the stairs. He opened the front door to be greeted by two men. One was a tall black man, who had a blinded eye. He was glaring at the boy, cracking the knuckles on his muscular frame. The other man looked familiar. He was younger, probably around seventeen or eighteen. His freckles shone against his pale skin, almost more vibrant than his orange hair. The cigarette he was smoking gave away where Carl knew him from- he was the Savior from the meeting. He stood slouched and his face was uninterested, while the other one's face meant business. Lightning flashed behind them in a crack against the dark sky. It would be raining all day. Carl knew Andrea would be safe in the guard tower and able to resume her job, but it was clear the outdoor workers would resume their time off.

"Who are you?" Carl asked, bitterly. If these bastards were here to fight him, he was sure as hell ready for them.

"I'm John," the taller black man said, "and this here is Nicholas. And you need to come with us."

"Why?" he asked. _What the shit is this?_

"Because I fuckin' said so, twerp!" the man brought his face down to level Carl's. His milky eye turned as he blinked. "Are you gonna make me do this the easy way or the hard way? You know, the armory isn't closed off to everyone."

"If you're not going to give me a good enough reason, I'll have to fight you," Carl shrugged. He quickly reached into his pocket, switching out the blade. Before the taller man could think, Carl swiped the blade against his cheek in a long, bloody streak. Carl stood back as the man glared at him. Carl knew he could take him. Negan's guys were all talk; he could kill him with his eye closed.

"Motherfucker!" John yelled, lunging towards the kid, but was stopped by Nicholas.

"Cool down, dude. He's just a kid." He turned to Carl and gave him a grin, "John's a fucking asshole sometimes, but I gotta work this job to eat, y'know. Pain in the ass." Carl didn't say anything, he just stood there, giving him his death glare. "Woah, kid. Okay, so Negan needs to talk to you. See, John? See how easy that was? I could be off smoking kush or some shit, but you decided to make this harder than it should have been."

"Fuck you," John muttered with his hand pressed to his cheek.

Nicholas kneeled down to Carl's height, pressing his cigarette on the porch. "You don't really have a choice."

 _I guess I don't…_ Carl put his knife back into his pocket and followed the men out. What could Negan possibly want from him? Was he going to kill him? If that was so, Carl decided that he should have brought a better knife or a gun. The rain was pouring down hard his head. He wanted to move faster, so he wouldn't have to dry his hair in front of Negan and expose his eye. The only other people who were outside were the guards who were on lookout.

When they reached the house, John opened the door from behind and pushed him in. "Well, I'm done here," he muttered.

The two men left Carl alone in the foyer. The house was a bungalow with beautiful paintings decorating the walls and fake flowers as centre pieces. The marble floor was so clean, one could skate on it as if it were ice. He looked around the house to find somebody, but it appeared to be empty. "Hello?" he called out, "Hel-"

He was interrupted by a tall Asian woman who was dressed in pink, frilly lingerie. "Hi! You must be looking for Negs! I'm Amanda, but you can just call me Bunny! Neggy-poo didn't tell us that we were having guests," she batted her eyelashes. Carl cringed at the nickname. "And you're a cutie, too, wonder what he is doing hanging out with a cute little kid like you." She giggled innocently.

"Can I see Negan, please?" he asked politely. She seemed too innocent for this world. He wondered where Negan found a woman like her.

"Oh! Of course! Come this way!" Carl followed her through the hallways as she wobbled on the too high of heels she was wearing. They stopped at a door at the end of one of the hallways. _This must be Negan's office._ "You can just go right on in."

Carl nodded as he opened the door. He stood there with his eye widened. He couldn't look away no matter how much he wanted to. Negan was so- hairy! Carl gagged, causing Negan to open his eyes. He was preforming anal sex on one of his wives. Negan's eyes met Carl's. "Well isn't this fucking awkward," Negan smirked, amused with himself. He pounded into his wife again.

"I-I don't want to see this," he managed to breathe out.

"Don't worry, kid. It turns me on when people watch. Look at Lucille over there, she's getting so wet." His voice was seductive as he continued banging his wife.

The boy somehow managed to thaw his frozen body enough to quickly close the door. "What the hell?!" he yelled through the door.

"Just give me like five seconds I'm almost done. Don't worry, you won't give me fucking blue balls." He tried so hard not to hear Negan's vicious moans through the doorway. It was as if he was deliberately doing this to mess with him. Carl had seen people die, but nothing had even come close to this. He was so hairy! His thoughts screamed, _who has that much hair?!_

Carl heard the door clip open. Negan was standing at the door putting on his belt. He gave Carl a jolly grin, acting as if nothing happened. His wife, a short Indian woman wearing red lingerie, walked out from under his arm. "Good game, Nadia, good game," he said, slapping her ass. Negan stood against the doorway for a few seconds before stretching his large arms. "So, let's talk. Follow." When Carl didn't move because he couldn't physically move from his spot, Negan sighed. "Did Daddy Grimes not tell you about the birds and the bees? The dildo and the vagina? That's right, I said your dad has a vagina."

Carl continued to look blankly at the giant. He was still trying to process what happened. Rick hadn't even begun the sex talk with him yet. He learned stuff from the other kids, but this wasn't there.

"Y-you're so hairy," Carl eventually said out loud.

"Yeah, so what? You're missing a fucking eye! Are you going to actually talk to me or are you going to be a pussy about this? Don't tell me you haven't walked in on Rick with a few ladies. He could have gotten as much poon as he wanted being head bitch in charge and all!"

"Uh, no. I haven't," Carl looked down at his shoes, embarrassed. Fuck Negan for making him endure this.

"Not even Andrea? I bet she's a freak!" Negan laughed. It was apparent that he was turned on by the thought like the psycho he was.

"Can we talk about something else?" He wanted to get off this topic as soon as possible.

"Fucking right we can! Follow!" the giant picked up his baseball bat and held it at his side as the two walked through the halls.

A young blonde woman wearing blue lingerie ran up to Negan and gave him a big hug. "Good morning, Negan. Do you want anything? Did I mention that I love you?" she beamed. She had a plastic smile painted on her face.

"Fuck, Sugar. Don't you see I have company?" Negan grunted.

"Oh, does he want anything?" she asked, confused. What kind of show did Negan have going on here?

Negan leaned in and whispered in Carl's ear, "kid, make this quick and say no. This one wants me to bring back jewelry on the next run so she's sucking cock."

"No, that'll be fine," Carl muttered, looking at his shoes.

"Want tea? A beer?" she continued.

"Sugar-" Negan began before being interrupted.

"You want some Sugar in your tea? Don't worry, sweetie, that's not a problem." She winked, pushing out her breasts.

"Oh, fuck my ass…listen, you'll get some dick later, Sugar. Nadia wore me the fuck out and I need some time to recover." The giant was pinching his nose in annoyance. Carl was beginning to get the feeling that Negan wasn't the most annoying thing in the world –his wives were.

"Oh yay! I love you!" she clapped.

"I love you, too," he cooed. She stood on her tippy-toes to share a kiss on the lips. He used an obnoxious amount of tongue which sent a shudder down Carl's spine. Sugar stood back on the ground and ran off into another room.

"You have a wife named Sugar?" Carl asked when she was out of the room.

"She won't tell me her real name, so I just use her stripper name. Yeah, I bang strippers and it's fuckin' awesome! Damn, I love the apocalypse! She's one of my newer wives, does extra favours for extra privileges. She wants me to keep some jewelry from the run tomorrow that we usually smelt for other uses. I might have to let her go soon, though. She's wearing me out. I never knew there was a thing called too much pussy until her. I fucked her ten times last night. Ten! I'm not shitting you! She wasn't even done. She was ready to blow me, too! What kind of fucking libido?" Negan was looking at Carl as if he understood whatever the hell the monster was talking about. "Anyways, take a seat in the kitchen. My girls won't be bugging us in there."

Carl followed the giant into the large kitchen. The counters were empty, except for a few used beer bottles and a bottle of whiskey. In the middle of the kitchen stood a large table, clearly large enough for all of Negan's wives to sit at. An emerald green tablecloth was draped over, nearly hitting the wooden chairs. In the centre, was a wooden board with white paper pushed to the side and residue of green crumbs that Carl assumed was hemp. He sat down on one of the chairs and folded his hands while Negan sat in the chair across from him, laying his bat in front of him.

"So, how do you like my ladies? Aren't they fine fucking women? Bet you're jealous Rick is too much of a cuck to have more than one bitch!" Negan grinned.

"They're only with you out of fear." Carl mumbled.

"Out of fear?! They're here because they'd rather fuck the shit out of me than doing runs and shit! They'd rather me sliding my large-sized meat into them than their fucking pre-apocalyptic husbands! Lucille is all types of jealous, aren't you? You jealous bitch. Making you watch me fuck all these side bitches, you fucking whore." the giant cooed at his bat, rubbing his hand over it. He put the bat back on the table and sighed, propping his legs up on the table and leaning back in the chair. "Speaking of runs and shit I have a job for you!"

"Dad doesn't let me go out on runs. He doesn't want me leaving the walls." Carl looked down at his hands. He didn't want to deal with the lecture he would get when he returned.

"Look at cock-sucker Grimes over here," he rolled his eyes. "Listen, I don't give a fuck fuckity what Prick let's you do and not do. Who's the able-bodied one in charge here? Ex-fucking-zactly. Call me Rick fucking Grimes for all I care!"

The boy glared into the giant's eyes.

"Ugh, fuck me! Are you really going to pull that shit on me again? Just glaring at me while I'm here, dick in hand, waiting for you to answer a fucking question!"

Carl squinted his eye. He had an idea. "I'll do it."

"Fuck yeah! Now we're talking! I don't know who used to do the runs around here, but they're not fucking doing their jobs. Who usually does this scavenging shit?"

"Mostly Glenn and Heath, but they're dead." He dead panned.

"Right. What about the others? What happened?" Negan acted as if it was no big deal that he killed Carl's friends. Fuck him.

"The war happened."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"They were scavengers, not warriors." Carl smirked, "they were weak."

"Okay, then. I have to go find more people to go fucking go on that run! Looks like it's gonna be me and some Saviors, unless you have any suggestions…"

Carl shook his head.

"Shit, looks like I won't be getting much pussy today after all… Carl, you should go home or some shit because we're done here. I have my ass filled with work now, it's like getting anal. I might end up shitting all over the fucking table once this is done!" His face turned serious. "Meet me at the front gate tomorrow at sunrise and don't make me send my fucking men to get you again! Such a pain in the fucking ass!"

Carl got up from the chair and Negan followed him to the door. The giant opened the door and pushed the kid into the rain that was now pouring. Carl sighed as he made his way down the steps. Right when he was about to reach the end of the drive way, he was startled by a loud, "stop!" Carl turned around as his eye widened.


	6. Detachment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What'd you wish for, Carl?" Joseph asked.
> 
> "To be just like my dad! I wanna be a sheriff just like him and protect people! I'm gonna be a hero!" he beamed.
> 
> "He's getting so old, Lori. I wish he'd be six forever." He heard his father say.

"...Happy birthday to Carl. Happy birthday to you."

"I'm proud of you, son," his mother smiled, her chocolate brown eyes glistened against the candlelight.

Carl was sitting in his kitchen, surrounded by family and friends. They were all excited, desperately waiting for him to blow out the candles. In front of Carl was a cake. The number 7 burned slowly in between an array of cowboy boots and sheriff hats. Wax dripped from the candles, falling onto the chocolate frosting. His mother had made it that morning before his party. Chocolate... it was his favourite.

"Come on, cowboy," his father's voice chimed in. He felt his father's firm hand on his shoulder. Rick plopped his sheriff's hat onto the boy's head. Carl pushed the oversized hat up and out of his face and looked up to his father's gleaming smile. Carl smiled back at his father, eager to open up his presents. He blew out the candles as everyone clapped. Theodora and Joseph, two of his closest friends, ran up with their sheriff plates, waiting for someone to cut the cake.

"What'd you wish for, Carl?" Joseph asked.

"To be just like my dad! I wanna be a sheriff just like him and protect people! I'm gonna be a hero!" he beamed.

"He's getting so old, Lori. I wish he'd be six forever." He heard his father say.

"Me, too, Rick. I feel so old."

"Don't worry, Lori," Shane's voice cooed, "you still look as young as when I met you."

"Oh, you," she giggled.

Rick loudly cleared his throat to remind them he was still present.

Carl clapped as his grandmother cut the cake, making sure he got the biggest piece. His mother always made the best food. He jumped out of his chair, running towards Rick, with a huge grin on his cake-covered face.

"Can I open my presents now, Daddy?" He asked impatiently. He grabbed onto the sleeve of his father's jacket.

Rick leaned down on one knee, looking into his son's eyes. "Don't you want to wait until everyone has eaten, son?"

"Pleaaaseee," he whined.

"Carl," he said sternly.

"It's my birthday, though," Carl pouted.

"Oh, alright, champ." Rick was never hard to convince. Carl was his little boy- his life.

Carl quickly opened up his presents, receiving an array of toys and a pair of socks from Grandma. The little boy was hopping in his seat, unable to sit still. He was excited to go play with his new cars. He could tell Joseph was really jealous. The little boy went to get out of his chair to get his mother to open up his toys when Rick stopped him.

"You're missing one more, son." His father passed him a rectangular packaging with red wrapping paper on it. "Your Uncle Jeffery sent this all the way from Europe."

"Uncle Jeff?" His eyes lit up. The boy quickly ripped the wrapping paper revealing a sheriff action figure. Carl's eyes widened winder than the Grand Canyon. "Daddy! This is the coolest toy ever!"

Rick chuckled. "Do you need help opening that?" Carl handed the box to his father and watched as he released the toy from its box. "Here you go."

Carl almost ripped the toy from his hands. "Wow he's so cool! We're gonna be best buddies, right? This is the coolest-" Carl looked down to realise he wasn't holding the toy anymore. He was only holding a hand. He scrambled to the floor to retrieve his doll. He tried to press the limb back into the hole, but it wouldn't stay. Frustrated, the little boy sat down on the ground in a pout. "Daddy, he's broken! He's not cool anymore! He can't protect anyone now!"

"Awh, Carl…um… look, son, give me the sheriff." He held the toy out to his father, looking down in disappointment. "Oh, look here, Carl!" Carl met his father's eyes. "See? You can put his gun in his hole like this, and he has a gun hand! A whole new man! How cool is that?"

The little boy's eyes lit up. "Wow, Dad! He's like a cyborg now! He's the coolest sheriff in town!"

"Even cooler than your old man?" Rick smirked.

Carl hugged him close. "No, you're the coolest ever, Daddy!" He let go of his father and picked up the sheriff. "Hey, check this out, guys! Isn't he cool?"

"Wow! A gun for a hand?" Theodora exclaimed.

"I want a cyborg, too!" Joseph echoed.  
\---

"Stop!" Carl turned around as his eye widened. He was standing in the middle of the road, water dripped from his hair as the rain showered down. Rosalie came speeding up to him, splashing puddles as she went. "Stop where you are!" _What the hell?_ She knelt down on the ground and pushed up the sleeves on her oversized jumper. Carl watched as she pushed a mouse into her hand with the stump that was left of her other hand. Wait- Stump? Her hand was completely gone from the wrist upwards. He hadn't noticed that before. She must have caught Carl staring because she glared at him with anger. "What? Why are _you_ stopping?"

"You were talking to a mouse?" he asked, amused.

"Yeah, she's my pet. Named her Astrid," she snapped. She brushed her soaked, long hair back behind her shoulders and pulled up her oversized hood to cover herself from the rain. The girl stood up to reach Carl's eye. "She ran away earlier today."

Carl nodded in response. He couldn't stop thinking about her hand. Did Negan fucking do this to her? Carl wouldn't be surprised if that dumbass did! He darted his eyes towards her stub. "You're missing a hand?" Carl blurted out. He reached towards her, but she pushed away.

"Yeah? So what, if I have one hand? Some of us aren't perfect, cyclops!" she snapped.

He ignored the insult, deciding he would let it slide. It was more important figuring out why that monster would do this. Carl was furious. Why was he so concerned for her? "You still trust that freak after he did this to you?"

"Freak? My brother did this because I was bit! Buzz off!" Her small eyes burned a hole through his eye.

"Oh shit…" he bit his lip.

"Yeah, oh shit. This happened before I got to the Sanctuary, so stop jumping to conclusions."

"Sorry, my dad lost his hand because he pissed off a leader of another group…" he looked down embarrassed. Shit. Why did he feel so protective over her? She was a stupid, annoying girl.

"Oh, yeah I guess that makes sense. But don't go jumping to conclusions, Carl Grimes. I know better than to do shit that would get my hands cut off. I'm not fucking stupid. I saw what happened to the last girl in charge of the rations. Was caught stealing and well… three little piggies didn't make it home!" Rosalie caught her breath, murmuring something inaudible. Her expression changed when she held out Astrid. "Astrid, this is Eyehole, Eyehole, this is Astrid." The girl was smirking like an idiot. She brought the tiny brown mouse up to her face and allowed it to kiss her nose.

"That's my nickname now, huh?" Carl had to admit, it was amusing. They began walking to find shelter from the rain.

She smirked back and nodded. "Did you get assigned a job yet?"

"Yeah, I'm going out on a run tomorrow. Think you could get me a list of what we need?" He asked, ignoring her odd shift in emotions.

"No shit? I didn't know people were going out tomorrow! Take me with you!" he starred at her. Rosalie's face was serious, but he couldn't tell if her words were.

"If you're so serious, Negan's looking for people to go with him, so you can go right in there and ask him about it." Carl gestured at Negan's house behind him. The sky thundered like bowling balls above them. He cursed himself for not wearing a jacket. It was getting more difficult to keep his eye socket covered with his soaking-wet hair and putting bandages back on was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Nah, screw that! Just let me come with you. Like, pretend that you didn't know I was there and convince him to let me come." God, she was annoying and persistent. Carl definitely didn't want to deal with both her and Negan for however long the run went for.

Their walking came to a halt. Carl squinted his eye. "Why should I do that?"

"'Cause you're an Eyehole and not an asshole," she shrugged. Carl continued glaring at her. She couldn't be serious. "Fine, I guess you are an asshole. I'm gonna have to find my own way, then." She sighed, placing Astrid into the pocket of her jumper. The girl stretched her arms behind her head and sighed. "Smell you later, Grimes." She made a walk towards the opposite direction. Why was she walking with him if she was going a completely separate way? Was she stalking him? Was she really that desperate to leave the community? If she was, she should bring Negan with her. Carl shook the thought and decided not to worry about it. His main worry was how to break it to his father that he would be leaving the walls of Alexandria. Thunder pounded again as a flash of lighting hit the sky.

\---

"Carl, where the hell were you today?" Carl had been lying on the couch reading for the majority of the day, waiting for Andrea to come back. Currently, he was reading _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ , one of the books that Maggie brought for him from the Hilltop. They had a much wider variety than Alexandria did as the town originally had a library. Andrea had just arrived from guard duty and was standing in front of the couch with her hands at her hips.

Carl looked up from his book. "I was out."

"No shit you were out! You left this morning before I even got up to do my shift!" He could tell she was angry, but wasn't in the mood to put up with it.

"Yeah. Can we go see Dad? I need to talk to him," he laid the book on the coffee table and sat up.

"Don't change the subject-"

"Andr- Mom," he paused. Calling someone "Mom" again was strange and uncomfortable. He'd have to get used to it. "Relax, I was assigned a job today and was just discussing it." There was no way he was going to bring up that he was talking to Negan- it was dangerous and it would be much better to tell Rick before anyone else.

"Okay, fine," Andrea rolled her eyes. "You need to be more careful. I don't trust that Negan's here, so it's better for me to be up in your business than you being hung up in a tree somewhere, waiting for the undead." She sighed, ringing water out of her ponytail. "Did you have anything to eat today?"

"Yeah." That was another lie. Carl had so much on his mind that he had forgotten to feed himself. His stomach grumbled, giving it away.

"I'll go make something," Andrea shook her head, walking into the kitchen.

\---

Rick stood up from his bed, bending his knees and slowly rising to his feet. The man wobbled, gripping his hand to the bedpost. Andrea ran up to his side, clutching to his other side and handing him a cane. "See? The doctor was right; your leg is getting better."

Rick sighed, gripping onto his wife's shoulder. "Fuck, Andrea. It's useless."

"Yeah," Alex agreed, "I guess you need more rest on that leg. Sit back up on the cot and we'll do some exercises." He draped his legs over the side of the cot as Alex fit his hands on Rick's leg. "I'm going to see if someone can make you a brace. I think I know someone at the Hilltop that can get you one. I'll get Jesus to ask when gets there."

Rick moaned in pain as Alex moved his leg up. He gripped his arm on the other man's shoulder, panting. "Thanks for all of this, Alex. I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't come."

"Please, we wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you, Rick. Had you not been in charge of the revolt, Negan would have fucked us up a lot more," he reassured.

Carl was standing at the end of his father's bed, listening to the interaction. He was still trying to process how to tell his dad what his new job entailed. He raised his hand to his forehead. It would be harder than he thought.

"Rick is a hero!" Andrea exclaimed, throwing her arms on him. She moved back and looked into Rick's eyes. "You did good, Rick. We survived! You'll get better, okay?"

"I don't know," Rick looked down. "Thanks for the support, but to be honest with you, I feel like I betrayed all of you. Everyone had so much confidence in me to protect them and I've let this happen. This war was my idea and I fucked up. I'm no use to you now. Negan should have just killed me."

"Don't say tha-"

"No, Andrea-"

"No, listen to me, Rick Grimes! You are a hero because you kept us alive. You are a hero because you protected Dale when the cannibals were eating him! You are a hero because your son looks up to you and aspires to be you! You are a hero because you saved us from the Governor who wronged Michonne and Glenn and cut off your hand! You saved us from the roamers who burst through our walls! You saved your own son from dying from a face wound! I won't let you sit here and say you betrayed us. You will never betray me, Rick." Her freckled face was flushed rose red when she was done. Her face was fire just as her words.

A wave of silence swept through the room before Rick spoke. "Thank you, Andrea. I guess I am being stupid."

"And stubborn," she smirked. "Now get your rest. We can't take back Alexandria if our leader has a busted leg."

"Dad, before I leave, I need to talk to you," Carl blurted out. "Alone," he added when Andrea and Alex remained where they were.

"Carl, is everything okay? Are you in danger?" Rick asked when everyone else left.

"I'm fine. Stop asking me if I'm okay," he huffed. Carl was getting sick of everyone on his ass all the time just because he was a kid.

"I was just worried, Kiddo. Now, what is it?"

Carl moved in closer to his father. He sat up on the bed beside him as his legs hung beside the older man's. "Dad, you need to shave," Carl smirked. He grabbed a clump of hair from the long beard growing on his father's face. It felt like the itchy yarn his grandmother used to make blankets with.

"I know that's not what you came here for," Rick held his head on his stump. "What did Negan do? Should I leave sooner?"

"No," Carl whispered. "Negan wants me to go on a run, possibly to the Kingdom and Hilltop. It could be days."

"Absolutely not," Rick growled lowly.

"Dad, hear me out. Negan's gonna force me to go no matter what you say. He has his men all over, so I'm bound to lose my other eye before I disobey his orders."

Rick was silent. He brushed his good hand against his beard in deep thought. "I see what you mean, but I don't like it. You're my son, so who knows what Negan would do."

"I knew you wouldn't-"

"No, Carl. Let me finish. I think we can use this to our advantage. Now I need to know you are going to be okay with this." What was he going on about? Was he sending Carl on an errand? Carl starred at his father to try and figure out what he meant. He moved closer to the boy, bringing his lips to his ear. "I need you to pay careful attention to Negan while you're gone. This could possibly be our Excalibur- you could find his weak spot and we can plan our attack from there. Watch when he puts down his bat and what causes it, follow every direction his feet move in, figure out what he eats for breakfast, I want you to know everything. Son, if you can do this, we are going to get this community back, I promise you. I owe it to you and Andrea. I owe it to everyone."

"I can do it." Carl wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. He was too concerned that he couldn't do it.

"Alright, I need you to figure out a way to let Michonne know, too. If you end up at the Kingdom, try and get her alone. I trust Ezekiel, but it's too risky." Rick lifted his head in response to a sound at the far window, sighing in relief it was just the wind.

"It will be a challenge, but I think I can do it."

"Carl, are you sure you can do this? You need to be one hundred percent on board."

"I'm fine, Dad. I just thought I should let you know." To be completely honest, Carl was terrified, but he wasn't going to tell his father that. He was the strong one. He could take on Negan.

"Carl, come here. I have a plan that you will be perfect for. Pay close attention while you're on that run tomorrow, son."

"So, you're actually letting me go?" Carl was surprised his father was actually serious.

"Yes, because you can find information that will help us take back society! Son, I know it's a big job for you, but I know we can take down this fucker!"

\---

He couldn't believe it. Watching that brute stand around as his ladies lovingly embraced every side of his body, whispering sweet nothings into his ears. Instead of dressed in lingerie, his wives were plaid in sweaters and jeans. Carl scoffed in disgust when one of his wives stood on her tippy-toes to lick his face. It was still cold and miserable from the storm the previous day. Dew still clung to the windows of the old barn house, located at the front entrance of Alexandria. The boy was happy that he reminded himself to wear a hoodie –better to make the trip as bearable as possible. Who knew how long they were going to be out there? Negan hadn't specified exactly where they were going, so the boy was left to play it by ear.

"Please don't leave us, Negan. We're gonna miss you, being all cold and alone in bed. Who is going to keep us warm?" One of his wives cooed.

"Yeah, what if I get super horny, Negan? How can I expect the girls to satisfy my needs?" another one followed.

"Girls, fucking please. I'm only going to be gone for a while," Negan chuckled. "I'll make sure as soon as I get back, those panties will drop faster than an overweight whore on a stripping pole." Carl gagged in response.

"Awe, okay," one of them whined.

"I love you, girls. Now go get some rest for the next few days, 'cause you're gonna fucking need it. You got that? Yeah, because we're gonna fuck!"

\---

The giant stood outside of the barn with his hands on his hips. "This is where you expect me to get a motorcycle, Frank? A fucking barn?" he growled. It was astounding how fast his emotions changed. It always caught Carl off guard. The man was obnoxious.

"Here's your horse, sir. Her name's Buttons," Frank, a short timid German man stuttered. He brought Maggie's horse closer, for the lug to check out. There's no way in Hell Maggie would give him Buttons. _Maybe if he kills the horse, she'll kill him._ Carl's lips curved up slightly at the thought of Maggie doing to Negan what he did to Glenn.

"Buttons? What the fuck kind of name is Buttons? I am not getting on that thing! No fucking way. I'd kill the damn thing! Now get me a motorcycle before you push all of my fucking buttons, Frank!"

"Motorcycles are loud, though," Carl murmured. He was still considering the idea of sacrificing the horse.

Negan shot the boy a snarky look. "Do I look like I give a fuck? You gotta have one around here! Rick's more organized than this." He paused for a second, taking in a deep breath and pressed his fingers to his nose. He rubbed his eyes and mumbled what sounded like "these useless motherfuckers."

"S-sir I think we have one at the back of the barn…"

"Well, then why isn't it in front of me? Get your fucking shit together, Frank!" he turned to Carl with a stupid smirk on his stupid face. "See, kid? That's how you get stuff done! I'm so fucking ready to tear the road a new ass on this bike!"

"Where am I supposed sit?" Carl muttered.

"In the truck, of course."

"Isn't it pointless to bring a bike and a truck?"

The giant paused for a moment. "Fuck you, kid." He rolled his eyes in response. He knew Negan had better comebacks than that, but the less he had to interact with him on this trip, the better.

"Okay, I'm ready!" Carl shot his face at the door, greeting him was the long haired annoyance. Rosalie was standing at the door with a bag slung around her back, dressed in her usual oversized shirt. She's actually serious.

Negan was off on one of his tangents, discussing something about having a threeway with Lucille and one of his wives and how awesome it would be if they were down. Carl chose to block that conversation out. He was still traumatized from the display he witnessed.

The boy bit his lip, trying hard not to smirk. She was an idiot. There was no way Negan was going to let her come, especially without having someone looking over the rations. He was explaining earlier to his men that they were low on supplies at Alexandria and needed to pick them up from the other communities. It was true. The war had wiped them clean and destroyed all of the crops they managed to harvest. He doubted that there was even a point to continue mooching off other communities and have him send out of scavenging team like everyone else. But Negan didn't do that. He did things his way and only his way.

"What are you doing here?" Negan must have broken out of his story while Carl was in his trance.

The girl sighed and leant against the barn door. She was hesitant to respond, but Carl could tell that she was trying to play it cool. "I'm here for the run. Don't worry, Carl said it's okay!" _Don't worry Carl said it was okay? Is that an actual valid reason?_

He exchanged eye contact with the giant, indicating that he had no part in this. Negan nodded in response. "Of course you can fucking come! Can you bring your pet dog, too? We can have a slam-blam-fucking-fam-jam of a time, drinking beer at the beach!" The kids gave him a confused look. "I was fucking joking. The chance of me allowing this is smaller than the tip of the devil's dick! Wait- oh shit! Yeah! I know exactly who you fucking are! You can't even kill a meat puppet and you expect me to let you protect my men? Ex-fucking-zactly."

Rosalie scoffed in response, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "With what proof?"

"You don't have a hand!" Carl blurted out. He wanted to cut this shit down. There would be no way he could possibly deal with both of them.

"Nobody asked you, you fucking pirate! Bite me!"

"Alright, let's calm the fuck down. You, Roxanne-"

"Rosalie."

"Whatever, it's not about your hand or lack thereof. It's that you can't fight for shit. Fucking Terry is blind for crying out loud and he can fight better than you! We've been through this shit so many times. So go take care of the rations."

"And if I don't?" she was still at him. Carl widened his eye. She was dead. She stood up on her tippy-toes to reach Negan's face. There was no fear on her side. What the hell was going on?

Negan smirked at her response, unfazed by her attempt to stand up to him. "Well, I suppose having no hands won't slow you down." She huffed in response, crossing her arms. "You're just like your mother."

She turned around to leave. "Don't fucking bring up my mother," she barely whispered.

"Then don't run your mouth, you bitch!" he called from behind her.

Carl was busy finishing up saying his goodbyes, finally approaching Sophia.

"You forgot your hat the other day," she held the sheriff had towards him. She moved in closer as she lowered her voice to almost a whisper, "Thanks for making me feel safe. Everything has been making me nervous lately. Are you going to be safe?"

"Yeah, don't worry, Sophia. I can take care of myself. I've already killed at least twenty of his men," he whispered back.

"Are any of our people going?"

"No, I think I'm the only one."

"Are you sure that's wise? He could be setting up a trap."

"Stop being delusional. You sure you don't want the hat just in case?"

She thought for a moment, peering into Carl's eye. "Nah, it suits you better. I can take care of myself!" She stood on her tippy-toes to place the hat back on his head.

"Sure you can," the boy chuckled. He brushed his hand across the brim of his hat. Carl felt naked without it, now he had a piece of his father with him. If there was a God, the spirit of his father would bring him strength... but God was dead. "I'll see you around, Sophia. Protect the other kids, too, okay? They're not as strong as we are."

"Okay! Have fun, Carl!"

Carl slung the arm of his Remington 870 across his body and propped his backpack on his back. He turned back to see that Sophia was still waiting for his departure. He tipped his hat with a smirk and waved goodbye to Maggie and Jesus. It was going to be a long trip, but he was going to make the most out of it.


	7. Suspect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No. It's not because of my scar! Carl, we all have scars, some are just not visible. Sure, it's not nice to look at- hell, I bet your eye ain't nice either- but it's a sign that we survived."

The small boy sat wedged between two large men on the rocky roads of Washington. It would be a day trip in order to get to their first destination, the Hilltop, and another day trip to reach the Kingdom as Negan was convinced that he could fix his relationship with Ezekiel. Carl doubted it; Shiva died as a result of the war, which only added gas to the fire of Ezekiel's hatred. Negan had the whole thing worked out: they would take the first day to scavenge untouched areas and stay the night out on the road. The next day, they would head to the Hilltop and hopefully get lodging for the night. From there, they would make their way to the Kingdom and Carl was supposed to help negotiate. Carl, of course, knew his plan was mute.

Negan had brought, including him, six more of his men. To be frank, they were hardly shy from the lug's size, at least in broadness…nobody could be as tall as that fucking giant. Negan, of course, was trailing in front of the vehicle, alongside two of his men, who were on motor cycles. It was like him to be over the top, but Carl thought this was just ridiculous. The Saviors had to know that sound attracted roamers. Negan couldn't be that stupid while simultaneously being as strategic as he was.

He only recognized two of them. John, who was in the front of the truck, blasting Led Zeppelin and Dwight, who was one of the Saviors riding bikes. The Savior that sat beside John was the runt of the bunch. He was much lankier than the rest, with a boyish look in his eyes. He was in desperate need for a hair cut, Carl thought, as his long black hair dropped to his eyes, almost connected to his beard that ran in thick strands. His yellow eyes shone like stars against his dark skin. Carl was sure that he would look about seventeen or eighteen if he had shaved. His name was Dajaaj and he was currently quietly tapping along to the beat of Immigrant Song.

The two men who sat beside Carl were the largest of the group next to Negan. One of them had a stone cold look of anger carved into his face. He would look over at the boy every now and then with intense hatred. He was large and bald, slightly tanned with a sleeveless shirt that bore his tattoo-faced arms. On his right arm, three dark, circular scars had left a kiss when the bullets penetrated his skin. He made a point to show it to Carl whenever he could, which made the boy suspect that he might have been intimidated by his eyehole. Carl considered parting his hair behind his ears to further intimidate them. His name was Richard, but went by Dick, to his dismay, by Negan. On the other side sat a large Mexican man who had an accent as thick as his dreadlocks. He wasn't much older than Dajaaj, possibly the same age, it was difficult to tell with the pain Carl could see in his eyes. His right hand was in bandages as Carl had witnessed Negan cut off his pinkie finger earlier that day for stealing ammunition from the armory. They were low on ammunition as it was, so Carl couldn't help but blame him. The frequent robbery in Alexandria would have went away fast if Rick was that assertive. The man's name was Enrique.

The final man, who rode side by side with Negan was of mixed race and around Dwight's height. His eyes were dead and emotionless at all times. Even if he smiled, Carl could see that he was not feeling anything. Just cold, black-holes, swirling his emotions into nothingness. It was as if his feelings drowned in the sea of freckles that covered him from head to toe. He had short, graying hair in tiny curly strands, a result of aging. Carl was surprised someone of his age would be on a run, but he supposed the man's robotic personality gave him strength. His name was Darius.

Carl wedged his head to look out the window. The sun was shinning brightly and there was strong hope of better weather than the previous day. It was around noon by then and they hadn't found anything of interest. Most of the stores they passed by had already been raided and the houses were not much better. They would need to go off track in order to find anything worth salvaging. He sat back in his seat and sighed. He was kicking himself for not bringing a book to entertain himself because the music wasn't helping the mood. Carl leaned back into his seat, closing his eye. He figured that he might as well get some rest when he could. He needed to be alert that night and be the least vulnerable as possible around Negan.

The truck came to an abrupt stop. Carl stopped himself from falling forward as seat belts were not longer needed in the apocalypse. He fixed his hat, waiting for instruction.

The front door popped open as Negan stuck his head in. "Why are we stopping?"

"We didn't scavenge this place, right?" John replied.

"Eh, we don't need to…" Negan said reluctantly.

"It's a school, which means there's a cafeteria with food. It looks pretty boarded up, so it's worth a try," Darius chimed in.

"Fucking fine! I'll give you a fucking handjob while we're at it!" Negan sighed. Carl looked outside of the window. It was a school, not too large, but the doors were boarded up pretty well. It was clear that it was left untouched and it became apparent why by _Enter and Die_ was painted onto the boarded up front door.

"Is this a good idea?" Carl asked.

"Of-fucking-course it is. I'm giving my men a handy for a good job! If they're extra naughty, they may get a blowy! This better be great 'cause this shit's just degrading," Negan replied. "Now listen up! We're going to split off into two groups! There's a reason why some prick made a warning- or a threat- so it's best to stay together! If your man dies, your ass is mine, so don't fuck up. If someone has to die for reasons unsolvable, report to me directly. Carl, Dwight, Dick, and Enrique are with me! Darius, John, and Dajaaj are in the other group!" Richard groaned when Negan called him Dick. Carl supposed that he had put all of the degenerates on his team so he could throw them at any walker that would come by. It was, of course, his number one mission to protect the leader- no matter how much he wanted him dead. He wasn't safe, so he'd need to have all of his guards up. He was just nervous for what the door held behind. There could have been a dangerous group in there, who would do such horrible deeds that could make even Negan shiver in his boots.

He watched as Darius pried the wood off the door with a crowbar. His strength amazed the boy as he was very old –he was probably even stronger than Rick! He wiped his face off with his hand and slowly opened the doors. The men followed him into the foyer. It was strangely quiet for a building that contained threatening messages on its exterior. Negan instructed in a low voice that his group check the office to see if the infirmary had any medical supplies they could use. Carl doubted that he would be sharing these findings with the other communities. Only his men mattered to him and even with that, it was because they protected him. Selfish bastard.

Carl reached for the door handle of the office. The door clicked open with little force. Carl couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not. They slowly walked in as Richard ducked behind the front desk to see if there was anything worth taking in the drawers. Dwight stayed behind on lookout as Carl and Negan snuck into the infirmary. The infirmary was dark, impossible to see. The stench of the undead filled the boy's nostrils. Negan passed Carl a flashlight to receive a scoff. What was he thinking? Who knew how many biters could be hiding in there? He felt a large prick against the back of his leg, which made him jump. Negan had brushed his bat against his leg. Carl caught the clue and slowly turned on the flashlight. The beam of sudden light triggered the sound of moaning. Something was inside there, but it sounded weak. He shone the flashlight around the room, stopping on what looked like the school nurse. Her hands were tied against the cabinets, preventing her from moving. A large bite mark ran down the rotting skin of her arm. He supposed that she was tied to prevent others from being bitten. It must have been before they knew how to kill the undead. Her eyes were a dead yellow colour and the skin around was slowly decaying. She was boney and malnourished, yet surprisingly still animated. He couldn't take it anymore and drove his knife into her skull. He turned around and gave Negan a thumbs up when her sea of moans washed away. Carl ran his flashlight through the room to make sure there was no other surprises. "Clear," he whispered. They went through the cabinets, having to pick locks of many of them. This place was untouched. It still didn't explain the sign on the front doors. They found gauzes, medication, Polysporin, and even some lollipops that were given to students for being good patients. They filled some empty cardboard boxes with essential materials and went back to the front office. Dwight and Richard already filled a box with candy, notepads, and some pens. Richard was currently taking apart the computer in order to get parts.

"Great job, men!" Negan exclaimed in a whisper.

They slowly followed Negan out of the office. Their next stop was a special needs classroom. The walls were covered in pictures and knocked over paint bottles, its contents spilled on the counters. The sunshine that seeped through the boarded up windows made it easy to say the room wasn't vacant. Negan motioned towards the cabinets, still cautious about making noise. Dwight and Richard began sorting through the unlocked cabinets while Carl and Negan searched around the room. _Thud, thud, thud._ A consistent banging sound was coming from the closet at the back of the room. Negan motioned for Carl to go check it out to receive a mouthed "fuck no" from the kid. In return, Negan pressed the head of his bat against the boy's back, digging the splintering wood into his skin until he moved forward. Carl was sure he was going to get infected if Negan continued this. He guided Carl towards the door and pushed him against it. Carl gulped and looked back at Negan. He had a bad feeling about this and he was sure this was the time the monster was waiting for to get him killed. "I'm not gonna fucking get you killed, okay? We made a deal," Negan grunted. _Bullshit_ , Carl thought. He gulped as he drove his hand towards the handle. He kept one of his hands clutching onto his gun just in case. He slowly turned the handle as the thuds got louder. The door propped open as a harsh growl filled the room, echoing into the hallways. A little girl, who Carl supposed had hidden in the closet at the start of the apocalypse and got herself locked in, fell onto the ground. Her screams and cries were sure to grab any attention of the undead that were lurking in the halls. Carl stepped back and watched as she scrambled on the floor, her bloody mouth seething in hunger. Negan quickly pushed Carl to the side and slammed his bat onto her head. "Fucking hell. Keep your head in the game, kid! You're gonna overexert Lucille before I even get to her tonight!" he grumbled angrily. An array of growls echoed through the halls. Carl figured out what the sign was talking about. He quickly grabbed his knife out of his pocket, but was stopped by Negan. "Kid, you're gonna get yourself killed if you use that thing. Use your fucking rifle!" He screamed, no longer caring about who heard.

The four ran out of the room, alert and standing in a circle. They were ready for the undead that came upon them. The moans got louder until the horde came. Carl cocked his pistol as Dwight loaded his crossbow. "Fuckin' take them all out! It's Lucille's time of the month and she's craving lots of blood!"

They began fighting off as many of the horde as they could. "There's so many!" Dwight yelled, "I don't think we can get all of them!" He shot one of the biters in the eye.

"F-fuck you, Dwight," Negan heaved. "Keep your head in the game and we'll get through this. We've been through fucking worse. These undead fucks protected us back at the Sanctuary!" Negan drove his bat into the head of an elderly woman. He laughed maniacally at the crunching of her head, seeming more pleased as time went by. They fought their way towards the gym doors, backing into them as they fought the walkers off. Carl stabbed a straggling one who was trying to get into the door and they closed it.

Carl watched as Negan looked around the gym, as if it held some type of familiarity towards him. He stepped into the supply closet as Carl followed. "What are you doing?" he asked. Carl suspected Negan was looking for weapons, but he knew he wasn't an idiot. There was no way he thought a hockey stick could hold the zombies back.

"I'm looking for the emergency generator. It will be easier to find the others and get the fuck out of here."

"How do you know-" The gym lit up within seconds. Carl looked around, amazed. He hadn't seen a school gym in years. It wasn't his favourite class, of course, but he did have some good memories of him and Joseph playing dodgeball together as an unstoppable team.

"Um, sir…" Richard whispered.

"What do you want, Dick?"

"Y-you should come outside…"

Carl followed the man out as his eye widened. The gym was filled with even more biters than before. Most of them were young children and teenagers, wearing gym uniforms. "We can't turn back now. We're gonna have to fight through them."

"What about the others?" Dwight asked.

"We'll find them once we kill these undead motherfuckers!" Negan replied.

Without a second thought, the men ran straight at the horde, using all of their might to get through them all. At this point, they were down to using their knives as they couldn't waste anymore bullets and Dwight was running low on arrows. Carl stabbed a straggler who was behind him. Negan towered among the rest; Carl could easily watch him take out at least three with one hit. He half watched, half fought off the biters. A biter ran up behind Richard, who was preoccupied with four others who were crowding around him. The boy quickly ran up to the biter and stabbed it in the back of the head. Richard flashed Carl a grin as he took out the four.

He looked back at the horde to try and knock out a few when he saw Negan. He was standing in the middle of the horde, shaking slightly, without killing any of the undead. Three were coming at him and were in perfect range for him to attack. "Negan!" Carl called out, but he was deep in a trance. The boy knocked out several biters on his way to snap the monster out of it. There was no way anyone but him would do the honour of ridding him from this world. Negan was scum, but deserved a slower death than being mauled alive. The boy knocked out a few more biters, pushing some out of the way. He pushed one more back, pushing his hand towards the giant. "What the fuck?" Carl yelled at him.

The man turned around. His face was almost as pale as the monsters and the colour was drained from his eyes. Carl could have sworn that he turned if it hadn't been for his loud mouth. He took out the three biters, three teenage boys who looked as if they were beaten up even before the apocalypse. "Snap out of it!" he screamed. Negan blinked twice as he looked at the tattered bodies on the ground. He shook his head and began smashing the undead faster than ever. Carl stepped back, watching as he wiped the entire gym clean. All that was left was corpses and fresh blood. Negan huffed as he pressed his bloody knife against his jeans, ridding it of the dead. Negan breathed in and looked back at the boys, blood dripping down his face.

"Not as satisfying as a fresh one, but still clenched my thirst… don't know about Lucille here. It looks like she's ready for more!" he exclaimed, carelessly shoving the gym doors open. He was out of his freaking mind!

Carl was caught off guard and quickly returned to fighting mode. The horde flooded in, quickly surrounding the men. Carl got right to killing the undead. He was sure he was going to smell of walker blood in the morning. The horde didn't seem as bad as he thought it was, it was as if they were thinning themselves out. He continued swinging his knife until he heard an unfamiliar grunt. Before he could look up, he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He was sure that he was bitten. He clutched onto his leg and looked up. A large hand was hovering over his head. Carl grabbed on, sure he was dead. When his eyes met what the hand was attached to, he realised who it was. "John?" he asked.

"Yeah. Don't fucking stab me again." Carl looked at the blood spilling out of John's shoulder.

"Yeah," Carl responded.

"Don't be fucking rude before I make that wound deeper," John mumbled.

Carl looked around at the once again empty gym. Enrique, Dajaaj, and Darius had entered the room. That's why the horde was getting smaller –they saved their asses!

"We need to get the fucking fuck out of here!" Negan declared. "Boys, take the generator back to the truck."

"S-sir, we found some unused lightbulbs and dried food in the cafeteria," Dajaaj said, timidly. He was clearly not used to approaching Negan.

"Great work, men! Pack that up, too, and meet me at the truck! John, take inventory, since your shoulder is clearly fucked up- get Enrique to patch that shit up. Carl, help me get this fucking generator out of here. I know you're strong," Negan led. Carl nodded as he limped towards the monster. "Suck it up. You're acting as if you got fucked too hard in the ass! Man the fuck up, you're okay. You've had worse!" he exclaimed. The boy nodded, unable to keep his mind off of what happened before. Negan seemed impressed with the find, but Carl couldn't help but wonder what happened in there. Negan was acting really weird and it was concerning. He took note of it, also keeping in mind that he knew about the generator. How would he know?

\---

Negan opened up the trunk of the truck as Carl stood dead in place. He couldn't believe it. Rosalie was sitting quietly against the wall, using a flashlight to read a book.

"What the fuck? I told you not to come! Fucking hell!" Negan exclaimed, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Do not fucking tell me that you're gonna shoot some of my men because I _don't_ want it to be a rea-fucking-curing thing for kids to hide out in my truck and fuck with me." Carl knew he was referring to when he hid out in the Saviors' truck and shot some of his men. That was the first time he entered the Sanctuary and he was hoping it would be the last time. Unfortunately, Alexandria was the Sanctuary now.

"Good morning –or should I say afternoon?" Rosalie stretched her arms behind her head and yawned. "Took you long enough to figure it out."

"Are you asking for a fucking death wish? I think my men can arrange that," Negan was clearly furious. His face was ready to explode. "You're lucky we're too far from Alexandria to drop you off home. But I think I should just drop Lucille on your face until you get the fucking message: You. Cannot. Fucking. Fight. For. Shit."

"Well, there's not much you can do about it, can you?" She was snarky towards Negan without skipping a beat. Carl couldn't understand why she wasn't afraid of him. Had it been anyone else, she knew they would be on the ground either missing a limb or dead.

"I can't fucking believe this. Can you fucking believe this, Darius?" He rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers. Abruptly, his eyes shot up. "Wait, then who the fuck is in charge of the rations?"

"I just got Olivia to do it. It's no big deal." She shrugged. Carl couldn't believe what he was seeing. He rubbed his eye to make sure he wasn't dreaming. This was too insane for him. Maybe it was a walker who bit him and he was in Hell.

"Jesus fuck on a fuck…" Negan grumbled squeezing his nose. "We're going to fucking starve and it's all your fault!"

"Why don't you do anything about it? I mean, if she's stealing our stuff…" Carl asked.

"Anything… you mean the iron? I need evidence, kid. I'm the devil, not a monster."

"Also he wants to get into her pants," Rosalie chimed in.

"Fucking hell, Rosanna!" Negan yelled, but then lowered his voice in consideration. "I've never banged a fat chick before… it would be an experience."

"Told you, he was DTF. He'd bang a bag of rice if the hole was small enough. It's Rosalie, by the way."

"Small enough? The hole would have to worry about being big enough! I'd tear that bag of rice's pussy in two with my monstrous cock!" Negan retorted proudly.

 _Why me?_ Carl thought in distraught. "So I guess this means she's staying?"

"I fucking guess so," Negan sighed. "But if I find one item out of place when we get back, Miss Piggy is going to lose her piglets. Now get the fuck outta the truck and help us load this shit on. No wonder the school wasn't touched, filled with fucking roamers to the tip of its cock!"

The sun was setting as they rode off in the truck. They had spent more time in the school than he thought. All of the events just seemed so quick in his mind. He missed the feel of driving his knives into those undead fucks, the backlash of his bullets leaving his rifle, the stench of fresh blood that clung to his skin. He wasn't meant for life in Alexandria. Carl was happy that the town hadn't made him completely soft, but it was holding him back from opportunities. If leaving the community for runs became a permanent thing, he would be okay with it- especially if Negan got someone else to go in his place. It would be a lot easier for the monster, too. He wouldn't need to put anyone else in charge while he was gone. Alexandria was fucked as it was and another member of the Sanctuary in charge was the last thing the community needed.

Rosalie was sitting on the ground in front of him, unable to squeeze between the two men beside him. The truck was full as it was and her as an addition was not helping. The boy couldn't even stretch out his legs without bumping into her. Instead, he resorted to spreading his legs to surround her. On the bumpy road, his legs would bounce, rubbing his wound against her. It was fresh, so it still stung. She was going on about her rat and how she had to leave her at home. She was hoping that her brother would take care of her since his job was so physically demanding. Carl was half listening to her, still wondering about what happened in the gymnasium. He had never seen Negan so still, especially during a battle. He was usually the most excited and had the highest kill count. That monster craved blood, but it was different. Carl had to save his ass and was now regretting it because he had to deal with both him and Rosalie. There was no way he wasn't bit.

As Rosalie began making fun of Enrique for losing his finger, the truck once again came to a stop. Carl followed the men out into the cool forest. The setting sun was barely visible through the tall trees that surrounded them. Carl figured that Negan wanted to camp out in the woods as it was safer and the chances of them running into other groups on the road were slimmer. He had to admit that it was a strategic idea.

"Okay, men! It's getting darker than a whore's vagina, so we're camping out here!" Negan exclaimed. He sighed as his tone changed. "Dwight," Negan called through a clenched smile. It was apparent that he was struggling the urge to strangle the smaller man. Carl knew Negan was full of shit. There was no way that he forgave Dwight that easily.

"Yes, sir?" he responded abruptly. Dwight seemed to hold the same thought as him.

"Why isn't there a fucking fire made? Get to it!"

"Okay…" Dwight mumbled, storming off into the woods to find some firewood. When he was out of ear reach Negan sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck. I don't know how long I can take being nice to that traitor," he mumbled to Carl. The others were off setting up camp without any instruction. They were like robots, systematically moving in an orderly fashion.

"Why don't you stop, then? You have more wives than Sherry," Carl replied.

"He'd be fucking deader than a hooker who owed money to her daddy if I got my way. Carl, you wouldn't fucking understand this, but it is hard to get bitches in your community to put out. Hell, I'd assume Andrea was a lesbian if she wasn't fucking Rick."

Carl glared at him, confused. What was he getting on?

"So repeat after me: happy wife, poon for life." He was dead fucking serious, too. Carl didn't see any sign of joking in this man's face.

"Okay, whatever."

"Okay, whatever? Alright, fuck you, kid. Dwight needs to hurry the fuck up before it gets too fucking dark out to actually start a fire. I need to have some alone time with Lucille, too. Don't we? You dirty girl, you. All of that blood and flesh on you makes you super horny and naughty, you sick bitch." Carl drowned out what Negan said from there. Things got weird when he went on his tangents and the boy wanted none of it. He needed to strategize how he was going to find out more information on Negan, but he was giving him nothing!

"Sir, I killed a couple of deer. It's not much, but should hold us until we get to the Hilltop."

"Good work, Enrique. Did you make sure to kill them far from camp?"

"Yes, sir! Won't be attracting any undead!"

"Alright. Carl, go ask that bitch if she knows how to cook. She needs to start doing stuff before I start cutting off more of her limbs. I think she went somewhere in the woods… probably walker meat now."

She was such an idiot for going out into the forest alone. She couldn't fight and it was beginning to get dark. If he couldn't find her, she sure as hell wouldn't find her way back. He crept through the forest, keeping his senses alerted so nothing would surprise him. Glenn had always reminded him to be alert when on runs because he could never be sure if someone or something would jump out at him. Abraham's advice was for him to always have his weapons in check in case he had to kill some of those monsters…walkers or otherwise. Carl heard whispering, but he was unable to make out the words. He moved further into the forest, making as little noise as possible. Carl made sure to step over every stick and stay close to the trees- just as Rick taught him. He kept the location of his knife and gun in the back of his head, in case he needed it. He hoped it didn't come to him needing to use his gun as the last thing he needed was to attract biters. He was just hoping it wasn't a horde he was following. As the whispering got louder, he reached for his knife, ready to defend himself. He peaked above the bush to see that it was Rosalie. Who was she talking to? There wasn't anyone else there, but she seemed to be responding to something. He stayed in place, slowly moving his head around the bushes to listen in closer.

"Mama, please. You know I'm better off learnin' how to fight out here than anywhere else. Plus, their community is so boring," he heard her whisper. "Come on, just buzz off the topic. Them Alexandria folk don't know what they're doin'." She paused, looking towards the bush Carl was in. He quickly ducked his head. She was talking to her mother the whole time? It reminded him of when his mom died and Rick was speaking on the telephone. He supposed that she used the same mechanism. The boy decided he would keep it to himself as he did with Rick. He watched her facial expressions, unable to hear what she was saying anymore. He suspected that she knew someone was spying on her. Her eyes began to tear up as she hugged the bare air. He couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or tears of sorrow. He took the opportunity of silence to approach her.

"What are you doing out here? It's not safe," he said, emerging from the bushes.

"I'm minding my own business," she scoffed. He ignored her bloodshot eyes and the crack in her voice.

"You shouldn't try to stray too far from the camp-"

"You best stray away from me before I knock you out, Grimes," Rosalie snapped. He disregarded her hostility.

"Negan wants you back at camp. He's trying to get shit done so _you best_ come with me. It's getting dark."

She rolled her eyes in response. "Thought he wanted me to be walker food?" He sighed. If she was going to be difficult, he wasn't going to deal with it. The sky streamed between the trees above them in a technicolour river. There was still enough light out that he would be able to find his way back. The boy turned to walk away, but was stopped a fragile hand grasping onto his sweater. A voice left her mouth, hardly audible. "Don't leave me alone." He paused in place. He could hear a crack in her voice –she was holding back tears.

"Stay close," he responded. She held onto the hem of his sweater for the entire way back to camp. Luckily no biters had found their way into their path and it was quite easy to find their way back. She surprisingly didn't travel as far as Carl suspected.

"'Bout fuckin' time!" Negan greeted them. "Rena, do you cook? I'm hungrier than a dick-deprived cunt!"

Carl cringed at his profanity. It would never be something he'd be used to.

"What am I cooking?" she sighed. Carl noticed she gave up on correcting her name.

"Enrique killed some deer, can you fry them over the fire or some shit?"

"Yeah, I remember putting some spices in the supplies," she mumbled. She didn't speak the entire trip back. Whatever she was crying about must have been on her mind.  
\---  
The truck pulled up to the gates of Alexandria. The run had been a lot shorter than Carl expected it to be, but he didn't quite remember what happened. He suspected that they were bringing Rosalie back because Negan was paranoid about the rations.

"Who's there?" a snipper yelled from the guard tower. They were holding a rifle towards the truck.

Negan got out of the truck with his hands up. "Easy, easy. It's just your friendly neighbourhood Negan here."

"Stand back now or I'll shoot!" Andrea yelled. "You are no longer welcome!"

"Bull fucking shit!" Negan exclaimed, stepping back into the truck. "Start up the truck, John! We're taking this fucker down!"

John revved up the engine and burst through the wall. What the fuck was going on? It was anything but a good idea to go through the wall. Buildings were lit up in flames, children were crying in their parents' arms as others ran around wielding weapons. The town was a disaster!

"Take your pick and stay with Rick! Chose Negan and be a heathen!" the people were chanting as two large men ran up to the truck. They propped open the doors and pulled out John and Dajaaj out of the truck. Carl watched in shock as they pressed their guns to their heads and pulled the trigger. An array of blood showered the front of the vehicle. Someone grabbed onto Carl's arm and yanked him out of the truck. He quickly turned his head to see that it was Negan.

"Stop spanking your monkey and get going!" he yelled. Without even time to blink, Carl and Negan were running at full speed towards a house. "In here!" Negan called, pointing to a broom closet. "It's a good thing you're here with me! Nobody will do anything!"

Carl's mind turned dark as he squinted his eye, curving his lips into a maniacal smile. "Wrong." He pulled out his knife and drove it into the monster's chest. Before he could fight back, the boy drove the knife in again and again and again. A laugh released from his throat as he was unable to control himself. Negan was well dead, but he continued to drive his knife into him. Blood splattered through the room and the closet door was completely covered. Carl licked the blood from his lips as he continued.  
\---  
Carl's eye snapped open. He wiped the dampness of his sweat from his forehead and rubbed his eye. It was only a dream, yet it felt too real. He quietly opened up his tent and walked out. He needed to clear his head. He was greeted by Dwight who was sitting at the fire. Negan had put him in charge of watch for the first half of the night.

"Couldn't sleep?" the man asked with a smirk.

"Yeah. Can I sit with you?" Dwight gestured to the log in front of the warm fire. He took a seat beside him, stretching his arms out. It was quiet. It was nice.

"Nice not being lonely," Dwight broke the silence.

"Yeah," Carl sighed in response.

"Got anything on your mind? I have all the time in the world before that fuck wakes up to take over my shift."

"I still don't know if I can trust you."

"I sided with you in the war." _Bullshit_ , he thought.

"You went back to Negan after," Carl snapped. A wave of silence drowned the dark night once more. Only the sound of crickets filled the air.

"You don't know my reasoning why, kid. It's complicated," he finally said.

"Is it Sherry?"

"What?"

"I overheard her and Negan talking the other day." Screw Negan. He could die in a pit for all Carl cared…but of course that would take the fun out of murdering him slowly.

"Motherfucker! I knew he was playing me and it's only to get into my wife's pants. Son of a bitch..." the man held his face in defeat.

"Well, she stayed with him after the war, right?"

"It's more complicated than that. You don't understand."

"Sorry," Carl sighed. He clearly still had feelings for her. It was silent once again. Carl listened to the soft music that the crickets made and the sound of distant wolves howling at the bright moon. The fire crackled against the cool air, lighting up the starry sky.

"I still love her," Dwight finally spoke. "I was hoping that after the war, Sherry would realise what a monster Negan is and I figured if I stayed in Alexandria, we could work things out. I should have just gone back to the Sanctuary. Negan has one of his old wives in charge there. She's a great leader and Negan respects that she had the guts to stand up to him." He sighed, "I'm such a fucking mess."

"I'm sure Sherry still cares about you. Her situation seems complicated. I mean, she's different from the rest of his wives."

"Like she doesn't put out as easily? Bullshit. You see the evidence on my face."

"So she's a whore like the rest of them?"

"I don't want to call her that, but, yeah I guess."

"Why don't you just go back to the Sanctuary?"

"Negan's got his hold on me. You saw how he made sure I was with him on the run. Do you honestly think he's going to be peachy with me leaving him again? I already fucking betrayed him, so I have that on my ass. He's only keeping me alive because of Sherry. Once I leave Alexandria, my ass is grass. I'm still surprised Negan didn't gut me out and leave my remains for the biters."

"Yeah," Carl agreed. Negan was fucking crazy when it came to that. Carl had watched him gut Spencer right in front of the whole town for betraying his father. Negan didn't even like Rick, so he couldn't fathom what would happen to Dwight.

"I'm thinking of moving to the Hilltop once we get there. It would be easy to convince Gregory to let me stay- I still don't understand why they keep him in charge. I think I'll be more safe with more people on my side."

"Maggie and Jesus are going back soon, so they could protect you."

"Jesus? He's fucking crazy. It's impossible to catch that guy! That sounds like a good bet, kid. I lost Sherry anyways…"

"Probably because of your scar. I understand."

"No. It's not because of my scar! Carl, we all have scars, some are just not visible. Sure, it's not nice to look at- hell, I bet your eye ain't nice either- but it's a sign that we survived. Sherry's just being stubborn like she always is."

Carl never thought of it that way. He just assumed that people were afraid of his eye. He was ugly and everyone knew it, but he should be proud of his wound. He did survive and would continue to survive until the day he died. He lifted his hair to expose his scar. He faced Dwight and watched him insert eye drops on his burned side. He finally looked back at the boy, unfazed by the wound.

"It's not that bad," he commented. "Definitely scary, like I understand why Negan likes you so much now. You should wear it proudly, just as I do." The boy smiled. He finally felt comfortable in his own skin, even without the skin being fully there on the left side of his face. He had the strong urge to hug Dwight, but held back. He wouldn't show his weaknesses to anyone but Sophia. She was the only one who understood his emotions. The light from the fire lit up the red lines running along the man's face, breaking through his exposed eye. Dwight's scar wasn't a big deal either. Carl could tell that he was once a handsome man, a handsome man who had made the wrong decision.

A loud snore rang from Negan's tent. "Why does he sleep with his bat like that? Isn't it dangerous?" Carl commented.

"He doesn't like sleeping alone –makes him feel vulnerable. If he could have it all his way, he'd bring his wives on every trip and they would all pile up like they do at home." Carl cringed in response. Why was this man so damn weird? Regardless, he took a mental note of that.

\---

He woke up to violent shaking. "Get the fucking fuck up!" He heard someone scream into his ear. He opened his eye and sat up. He was still outside and figured that he had fallen asleep at some point while talking to Dwight. The tall beast stood in front of him, wielding Lucille against his broad shoulder. The morning dew coated the grass. "We're fucking leaving now! Get your ass in the truck! Can't believe Carl fucking Grimes sleep walks."


	8. Achilles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did I hear a thank you?" he smirked.
> 
> "I think you misheard me. I said fuck you."

The sun shone through the windows of the second grade classroom, illuminating the room with natural brightness. Carl and his friend Joseph were enjoying their free time before their teacher returned to teach again. The two were having a fight with their dinosaurs, not having a care in the world.

"Rawr! I'm gonna eat you and your family!" Carl exclaimed, pushing his triceratops against Joseph's raptor.

"No, I'm gonna eat you. Muahahaha," Joseph cackled, crashing his raptor against Carl's dinosaur.

The P.A system dinged, interrupting their game. The class quieted down to hear the announcements. "Attention, this is not a drill. It is important that we stay calm! Everyone must leave the school immediately!" Before he could think, sirens rang loudly through his ears. The little boy could barely hear the growling that escaped the P.A system. That's when it started.

There was no time to leave in an orderly fashion- the students were already running in a panic, knocking over desks in a racket. Carl and Joseph exchanged looks, then eyed the door. Carl quickly made a break for the door, dodging flying desks and his screaming classmates. He looked back to realise his friend wasn't there. He scanned the room to try and spot him, but it was pointless- he had drowned in the river of what seemed more like monsters than kids. He turned around to embrace the pool ahead of him. He took advantage of his short stature, ducking beneath as many crazy people as he could. What was happening to humanity? He finally reached the front door when he paused and looked himself over. All was right except for a red liquid that had resided on his hand. The little boy's eyes sat wide open. He looked back to watch a teacher get devoured by the principal. He blinked, not believing what he was seeing. This was unreal! He was caught off guard by something lifting him up off the ground. He was surely going to be eaten by one of those monsters.

"Carl." That was a familiar sound. "Carl," he heard again, "Carl, honey, it's okay, Mommy's going to get us out of here. Uncle Shane is here, too." The little boy met the familiar eyes of his mother in relief. He slung his arms around her neck, hoping this was all just a dream. "Baby, don't look. We're going to Grandma and Grandpa's for a little bit -until the good guys in the military sort things out." He nodded into her chest. The boy was just happy to be in her arms. He was safe there. Loud cacophonies of several different noises strung the air as Carl struggled to keep his head down, to shield himself from the horror that had become. _It's going to be okay_ , he told himself, _Mommy will protect us_.

"Where's Daddy?" he asked in a panic when he didn't see his father in the family van.

"He's at the hospital, sweetheart," his mother responded, uncertainly. She had a brush of guilt on her face.

"We have to go get him!" he would refuse to get in the car without knowing his father was safe.

"Don't worry there, Carl," Shane stuck his head out of the driver's seat. "Your Daddy can protect himself! He'll meet us at your grandparents' place!"

Carl looked at Shane suspiciously. "Because he's strong like a superhero?"

"Yes, Carl, he is a superhero," Lori smiled.

"Okay," he said with uncertainty. He needed his Daddy right now!

"Don't look out the window, Carl. Just stay in the back and play your Gameboy. I packed a bag for you with clothes and toys in it." He swore he heard her mutter, "I just don't know how long we'll be gone for."

She and Shane sat in the front seat. His mother kept looking back at him to make sure he was okay. Carl wasn't too sure if he was okay. He left Joseph back there- maybe he'd be at Grandma and Grandpa's house too, he hoped.

He caught a glimpse of what was going on that he couldn't look away from. The sky turned a dark grey as the clouds stuck to each other like tree sap. Darkness fell throughout the town, lights in the houses were absent, the only light coming from the flames of fire set by rebellious youth. People were throwing bottles at buildings and the police were pepper spraying people. Monsters indistinguishable from the people he once knew and loved plagued, taking chunks of skin off of random people. He couldn't believe his little town was gone just like this. When they reached their home street, Ms. Sandra from across the street could be seen trying to fight people off with a chair, but these people couldn't feel pain. More monsters. He watched as she gave in, allowing the monsters to pile up on top of her. Her painful screams echoed through the streets. He drove his eyes towards his knees. This was insanity! His eyes welled up in tears as he tried to forget the image that flashed through his mind. This is not real, this is not real, this is not real, he repeated to himself. But it was real no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise.

"Carl, honey, it's going to be okay," his mother's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Lori, get in the back and tend to your boy. I'll get us where we need to be."

"Are you sure, Shane?"

"Lori, I got this under control. Don't worry, let Uncle Shane take care of it." He flashed a smile back at Carl through the front mirror. Carl smiled back lightly. Shane was coolest person he knew next to his father- he would protect them.

His mother stood up and carefully brushed past the front seats. She kneeled at the foot of Carl's seat and rubbed his back. She hummed soothing sounds and songs to calm him down. " _My sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when the sky is gray_ ," she sang, urging Carl to join in. She always knew how to make him feel warm and safe.

"Fuck," Shane muttered. Carl and Lori turned their heads to take in the new surroundings. They barely reached the outside of the city when abandoned cars blocked their path. Helicopters were flying overhead, as screams rang from pedestrians. A cacophony of growls filled the city as people were quickly mauled by the monsters. "Change of plans." Shane turned the car around and began driving westward instead of north.

"What about Dad?!" Carl exclaimed in terror. He jumped up from his seat and pushed himself through the two front seats to get a better look at the surroundings. His father would never find them.  
\---  
Carl was back in the truck, squished between the two large men and Rosalie once again. Negan had given him a package of stale portable oatmeal so he could keep his strength. He must have fallen asleep while talking to Dwight and he didn't wake him up before the end of his shift. Negan was convinced Carl was "a weak little bitch" for sleep walking and probably "fucked a meat puppet doggy-style while he was at it." Carl sniffed his armpit. They all smelt bad- nobody had showered in two days and they were after fighting off a horde. He made a mental note to shower when he got to the Hilltop.

He ate his oatmeal in silence, observing his surroundings as he took it in. Rosalie was acting herself again, going on about who knew what and John was blasting his music, still driving despite his stabbed shoulder. Carl was sure John was still angry with him for stabbing his arm, seeing as he needed stitches. It didn't help that Negan was making fun of him for being stabbed by a little kid, either. Carl also needed stitches, but his wound was luckily not as deep. He lost his eye; he could deal with a little scratch. John was still glaring at Carl through the front mirror.

"Why are we stopping?" Carl asked. They were nowhere near the community and several roamers were walking around them.

"We're getting some presents for our friends at the Hilltop," Negan smirked. He got off of his bike and grabbed a biter from behind. He tied its arms together with a rope, then tied the rope to the front of the truck. "Out, boys. Grab the biters and tie 'em up well!"

Carl groaned. This was a waste of time. He'd already explained to Negan how stupid it was to threaten people into liking him. He'd be creating servants instead of allies, but he supposed that was the way Negan wanted it.

He watched as the men grabbed onto the undead and repeated Negan's method of tying them to the truck. Richard pulled one towards him aggressively and cut off its hands. Dajaaj grabbed a walker from its neck while John tied it up. Negan easily grabbed hold of a biter and tied it up, throwing it at Dwight to tie to the truck. He watched as Rosalie ran towards Negan with a grin on her face.

"I'm taking these back for my brother!" she exclaimed, holding out a box of cigarettes. She smiled eagerly, certain her request would be accepted.

"I hope you have twenty-five points," he muttered.

"Twenty-five points? That's bullshit!" she almost yelled, "I found these on the run! They're mine!"

"Do you know what the demand is for cigarettes today? In case you haven't noticed it isn't Alice-in-fucking-Wonderland here! People are stressed out! You're lucky I don't make it twenty-five points for a single bud! I've seen guys suck cock for a drag! Now get back to work before I give you a share of our little present!"

"Fine…I'm still keeping them."

Negan shook his head and grabbed onto the neck of a smaller roamer and held it up to his men. "Hey, guys! Check it out! We can turn the meat puppet into a literal meat puppet and put on a show for our buddies, how about that? Maybe we can turn a few into fuck dolls!"

Carl blinked and turned away as Negan revealed he was joking in a chuckle. He didn't have time for this shit. He just wanted to find one biter, in hopes he could call it a day. This was a waste of time and was going against his advice exactly. _He's gonna get himself killed before I get the chance_ , he thought.

He looked behind the truck, finding a strangler who had left the horde. Carl wouldn't be around the monster and with this one being alone, it was an easy catch. He began to move towards the walker when he felt someone's eyes on him. He turned around to Rosalie's glaring face. Her eyes never blinked and never let go of its hold on him.

Carl sighed. Did he really want to know? "What are you looking at?"

The girl brushed her long hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "You don't deserve your own business," she muttered.

Carl blinked in response. "The fuck? Whatever, I don't have time for these games." He went to turn around to get the walker when he was interrupted by her voice once again.

"You know what I'm talking about, Asshole."

He twisted his head back. "Asshole?"

"With the amount of shit coming out of you, I think Asshole suits you better than Eyehole," she shrugged. What the hell was her issue?

"What do you want?" Again, he questioned if he even wanted to know.

"How long were you watching me in the forest yesterday?"

"What?"

"How long, Grimes? It's important." She snapped.

"Like two seconds, I don't know. You were hugging the air or some shit," he muttered. He didn't want to get into her problems. If she was anything like Rick, he knew it was best for her to deal with it on her own. As far as she was concerned, he knew nothing.

"Okay." Okay? That was all she had to say? She went to leave, when Carl grabbed onto her arm. "Yeah?"

"I'll keep you company for a while." She looked upset and as if she needed a distraction. Who knew the crazy shenanigans her mother was telling her. It was best he kept an eye on her.

"That would be nice," Rosalie smirked. "Guess you're just an Eyehole."

"I have more than just an eyehole."

"Yeah, you're still full of shit, but you're verbally constipated right now." She laughed. "It's good." Carl rolled his eye as he went back to get his prey, when he realised it was gone. Damn it! He must have gone into the forest!

"What's your deal with Negan? Aren't you afraid he's going to kill you?" he asked, walking towards the forest. He made sure to keep his voice down in case there were more out there than they could handle.

"We have a different relationship than most."

"And?"

"Let's just say it's in his best interest to keep me alive. He's doing someone a favour. If he knew what was good for him, I'd be dead." Carl shook his head. Her voice perked up loudly as he watched her run towards a tree, "Hey! Did you see these?!"

He looked over her shoulder to see what she was talking about. "We're not getting fireworks," he deadpanned. Why couldn't she pay attention? She wasn't even armed.

"Why not?" she whispered back.

"Why not?! It's going to make a lot of noise!" he whispered in anger. Was she really that stupid?

"You're no fun, Carl. I was gonna bring it to the Hilltop and we could all have a great time," she pouted.

Carl didn't respond, he just glared at her. She was a stupid girl. He went to leave her behind when her heard her beckon.

"Oh no response? Fuck you, then. I'm-" she was thrust back by a hand tugging at her long hair. She stepped back in terror, giving easier access for the walker to bite her face. Its sharp teeth dove for her neck as Carl quickly stabbed its head with his knife. He pulled his knife out, while the walker released its hold of Rosalie's hair and fell to the ground.

"And that's what happens when you make noise." Carl scoffed. No wonder she lost her hand.

"Smartass," she mumbled, fixing her hair.

"Did I hear a thank you?" he smirked.

"I think you misheard me. I said _fuck you_ ," she grinned. He couldn't help but laugh. What an idiot. He hated how amused he was with her. She brushed her hair behind her ear. "I think I need to cut this. It's not safe." Carl raised his eyebrows. _You think?_ "Lost this baby the same way," the girl pushed down her oversized sleeve revealing her stump.

"Remind me to help you with that," he mumbled. He was more focused on the fact that he had to kill his prey. Who knew how pissed Negan would be if they brought back nothing! He heard growling from behind. He turned around to see a straggler chowing down on a dead rabbit with its back facing him. "Stay there," Carl mouthed to Rosalie. He slowly crouched down and tip-toed towards the undead. He held onto his rope in one hand and grabbed the arm of the seething monster. It'd been years since the apocalypse began, yet the smell still made his stomach churn. He pulled the arm back along with the other one, careful to not get bit himself. The walker was a lot bigger than him, but he knew he could handle it. He kneed the walker in the back so it fell on its knees and he kept it there. He quickly tied the rope around, checking twice to make sure it was tight. He got up off of his knees and yanked the roamer up with the rope. He turned around confidently dragging the beast with him. Instead of being given a thumbs up, Rosalie was holding the box of fireworks, grinning stupidly from ear to ear. Carl shook his head in response. There was no point in even fighting her at that point.

\---

"Knock knock!" Negan exclaimed, banging on the front doors of the Hilltop. The wall stood tall before him, much more fortified than it had been prior to the war.

A guard popped his head over the wall. "Oh, it's Negan!" he called out to the other guards.

"The correct answer was who's there?" Negan grinned.

"Oh um-"

"Eh, fuck it! You ruined the punch line! Where's Gregory? He knows what I want!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms out. Carl face-palmed. He had the luxury of enjoying this display from the view of the van.

The guard ordered that the doors be opened for Negan and his men. One of the guards pushed Negan's motorcycle into the community as Negan trailed in front. The town seemed almost deserted at this point. Somehow fate must have told them that hell was here. "I'm here to pick up a huge order of kiss-ass from some motherfucking traitors! I was nice enough to bring you presents, too." He snapped his fingers as his men brought out the biters. The undead were chained together and were biting and growling in every direction.

Gregory slowly approached Negan, followed by two of his large guards. He was shaking timidly and struggling to bring out words. He knew his ass was grass. Carl couldn't help but smirk. "Y-yes, sir?"

"You know why I'm here, best buddy!" Negan grinned demonically. His shark-like teeth could bite the old man's head off.

The old man looked back at his men, then turned his head to face Negan again. "We-we don't have anything. You know the war-"

"You're tugging my dick here, Gregory," Negan interrupted. "There's no fucking excuse for not having any shit. I am this close to making an example of you. And believe you me, I respect Rick, so imagine what I could do to a shit-for-brains like you!" He brought his head in close so his eyes met the old man's. He held his arm out to grasp Lucille, who was brought to him by Dwight.

"No, sir, please! I swear! The war depleted us of all of our supplies! You can come look at our inventory- I swear!"

"You're getting on my nerves, Greg. We had a fucking deal. Don't think you can pull a Rick because we all know how great of a leader you are. Show me what you have. Richard, John, go check the other buildings. I have a feeling this sly fuck is trying to get out of payment for everything I've done for him."

"Y-yes, sir. Right away," he stuttered.  
\---  
"No motherfucking way you only have this much! You're gonna pull my cock off and what am I gonna fuck without a cock?" They had entered the pantry where they kept their rations. It had been pretty much cleaned out. Gregory wasn't lying about not being able to replenish after the war.

"Sir, it's true!" he insisted.

"And no fucking ammo, Gregory?"

"No sir, but-"

"Fucking more useless than a cunt-less prostitute," Negan grumbled, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"I-in Alexandria. They have a guy. He can get ammunition."

"Well, get someone to go inform Alexandria that they owe me twice the ammo for your fuck up! One week, Gregory! And to make sure you get the fucking picture-" he grabbed one of Gregory's men and slipped his knife into the man's throat. He gagged as blood ran from his throat. Carl watched in both horror and amazement, his heart pumping blood up to his ears. Why was he so excited about this? They watched as the man scrambled to the ground until there was no movement left. "One week, Gregory. And I wont be as kind next time." His expression changed to a jolly grin. "Now where are we staying tonight?"


	9. Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thank you, Mr. Fucking President. Would you like to take me out to dinner with that fucking? Wine and dine me, motherfucker."
> 
> "Hey you asked for my opinion, didn't you?" Carl rolled his eye. Negan was ridiculous. He was now used to the constant mood swings of the giant. The boy just didn't know how to deal with it yet.

"Look at this motherfucking hospitality! This is more like it, huh?" Negan exclaimed. "I almost feel like jumping out of my pants and let lil Negan out for a game of ping pong -where he's the paddle! Goddamn!" At this point it was pointless for Carl to get second hand embarrassment from this man, but someone needed to be embarrassed for him. The boy began reconsidering his plan for the umpteen time. Was it worth it? "You guys get it? I feel like jacking it right here right now!" He received a few exasperated face palms from his men.

Gregory had given them lodging in the courthouse where he lived. He decided he would be comfortable sleeping at his desk while Negan got the bed. It seemed like an already set deal.

They stood in front of a large, wooden bed that was set in the middle of the large master bedroom. A beautiful white, fleece blanket made up the bedspread, comforted by two large pillows that laid on the head of the bed. Carl was jealous that he would be getting the floor. This bed was one hundred times nicer than anything he could find in Alexandria. The rest of the room was empty, expect for the two nightstands that stood next to the bed on either sides and a wooden dresser adjacent to the bed. Gregory had been smart enough to hide any important papers Negan might have wanted to look through.

The monster stood tall with a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Men, go see if Gregy-poo still has his ping pong table! I'm gonna get lil Negan to work- no not you, Pussy Eye. I need to have a word with you." What did Negan want now? Carl sighed, closing his eye and taking a deep breath.

Once everyone cleared the room, Carl turned to face the monster. "What?"

"Watch how you fucking talk to me!" Negan almost screamed. His smirk was plastered on his face like the psycho he was. He might as well have a Glasgow smile etched into his face. "Wasn't it fucking spectacular how I handled that? I think I saw some shit dripping into that old fuck's shoe!"

"If you want to make enemies out of allies," Carl mumbled.

"Thank you, Mr. Fucking President. Would you like to take me out to dinner with that fucking? Wine and dine me, motherfucker."

"Hey you asked for my opinion, didn't you?" Carl rolled his eye. Negan was ridiculous. He was now used to the constant mood swings of the giant. The boy just didn't know how to deal with it yet.

"I guess I did." That shut him up.

"This happens every time you ask for my help. Now do you want to or continue being a tyrant?" Carl was already far from sick of his shit, but was sure this would get him close enough to the enemy. Negan needed to be demanded respect. He figured if he didn't tip the monster over the deep end, he'd get somewhere.

"What do you want, kid? Me to get on my knees and beg like a weak little bitch?"

"Negotiate," Carl deadpanned. "Nonviolent negotiation."

"Bull-fucking-shit that works! Fucking Prick killed my men for negotiation. I was open to negotiating! Last thing I wanted as a cock-sucking war!"

"You're the one taking advice from a kid. I'm like thirteen."

"Fucking fine. I'll try your tactic out on the Kingdom tomorrow. You better not fuck me over, kid, I'm trusting you." It better work, Carl thought, nobody is allowed to kill this bastard except for me. "Go take a shower! You smell like a nutsack!"

It was dark outside, only the stars lit up the sky. The Hilltop was still careful with electricity so they had a curfew at sundown. Carl had the privilege of watching Negan play ping-pong for the rest of the day. Thankfully, he was using an actual paddle instead of his…Carl never knew whether to think this man was serious or not. His men let him win and it was clear. The games were more intense against one another than against the leader. Negan's ego could fill an ocean.

Even after the events in the past few days, the boy couldn't bring himself to sleep. Negan had taken over the bed, claiming that Lucille needed space to get a goodnights rest- Carl, however, knew this was an excuse for the giant to get the comfy bed. His men were given sleeping bags to sleep on the floor. So much for hospitality. The boy laid on his back, looking at the ceiling. He wondered if Rosalie was still awake and she could lend him her book. His stomach rumbled, still not full despite the meal the Hilltop forged up for them. Carl felt bad for eating their limited food supply, but Negan was convinced they deserved it after the Hilltop betrayed them. He sighed and turned to his side to see if Rosalie was still asleep. He slowly moved his body to the side to meet eye to eye with the girl. It took everything out of him to not scream. Her small eyes were open and glaring at him without blinking. He managed to catch his breath, glaring back at the girl. "What the fuck?" He mouthed.

"Can't sleep." She mouthed back.

"So you're watching me instead?"

"Mmmhmm."

Carl rubbed his eye. "Your book?" He mouthed. Since he was already awake he decided he might as well read for a bit. Carl's insomnia never got better; he was lucky to get two hours of sleep in.

"I cook." She smiled back deviously.

"No. Your book!" He mouthed, using his hands to point at her and to sign opening up a book.

"Hook? Fishing?" She mouthed back.

Carl resisted the urge to strangle her. She grinned innocently at him and silently giggled. She dug her hand under her pillow and handed over her book. Carl couldn't help but grin back. Idiot, he thought. He studied the cover of the book. King Lear. A Shakespeare play. He opened the book and skimmed until his eye fluttered closed.

His eye opened to the book spread out on his face. He must have fallen asleep at one point. He was at the scene where Gloucester had his eyes gouged out. He was blind in two ways: literally, and figuratively. Carl quietly closed the book and laid it by Rosalie's head. He sat up, preparing himself for the day. His eyes peered on the sleeping girl's face. It was funny how calm and reserved she looked instead of erratic and annoying. Her eyes were softly closed, her pink lips slightly parted. Carl couldn't help but watch her in this peace. He got lost in a trance, watching her inhale and exhale like waves on a beach. When he saw her eyes begin to flutter, he quickly got back into his sleeping bag and pretended to be asleep. He cocked his eye slightly open, watching as she picked up the book and angrily asking herself what it was doing on the floor. She clicked her tongue while dusting the nonresistant dust off the book and placed it back under her pillow.

"I'm staying." Dwight stated as Negan was setting up the truck.

"The fuck you are! Do you seriously think I'm gonna trust you alone?!" Negan yelled. His true colours towards Dwight were showing. Carl knew the monster was pissed.

"I'm not alone. Isn't a good idea to have Savior presence in this place, anyway?"

Negan stepped up so his chest was pressed against Dwight's. He leaned over and spoke into the smaller man's face. "Are you fucking questioning me? I can easily make your face symmetrical."

"Actually, sir," Dajaaj spoke up, "I think that might be a good idea…not to question you or anything. It could be beneficial if we have Savior presence is all of our communities."

Negan sighed, squeezing his nose. He turned back to Dwight. "So you're really done trying to get into my wife's pants?"

Carl watched Dwight grimace at the monster. He still hated that Negan referred to Sherry as his wife. Sherry belonged to Dwight! "Yes, sir," he said through his teeth. Carl felt bad for the guy. It wasn't his fault his wife left him for a tyrant.

"I still don't fucking trust you Dwight, but the boy has a point." The brut relaxed his face and placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Dajaaj here is going to stay with you and make sure you're in line. Your ass is grass if one strand of hair is out of place. I will not hesitate to turn you into one of our meat puppet presents if you mess this up. I'm being nice to you since you're gonna be far from my wife, but don't think you're forgiven for betraying me, fucker. If I catch your dick even three inches in Sherry's territory, it'll be bye bye D for the D. D as in Dick!" Negan's hands were on his hips as he swayed back and forth, clearly not happy with his decision.

"It's a deal." Dwight held out his hand to be rejected by Negan.

"Unless you're offering me a handy, I don't want your filthy hands near me or Lucille."

Dwight put his hand down and mumbled, "fair enough." Carl stood there shocked at how easy it was for Dwight to get away. He supposed that Negan was far too pissed off at him to want to be around him anymore. This was sort of an escape for both of them. He was sure Gregory and his men would keep Dwight in line, too, which wouldn't be ideal for a coup d'état anytime soon. His thoughts were interrupted when Rosalie dug her fingernail into his arm, making him jump.

It was a long drive from the Hilltop with the amount of pit-stops that were made. Negan wanted to replenish the rations, even adding some luxuries that the citizens of Alexandria didn't bother to think of. The luxuries were for his wives, of course. The truck was pretty full before they decided to call it a day.

"Okay! Out!" Negan exclaimed. "The sun's going down so it looks like we're camping." Carl heard Rosalie groan in response. He snapped his fingers and his men went out doing exactly what he wanted.

It was a lot darker than the previous night that they camped out, so the boy assumed they stopped later than before. It was impossible to tell time in the new world. Time no longer existed. Carl waited for instruction as Negan double checked on the supplies.

"Carl, get over here!" He slowly made his way to the back of the truck, not trusting what Negan would do next. Negan's monstrous hands gripped the boy's shoulder as he directed him towards the camping supplies. "Know how to pitch a tent?"

Carl blinked. Did Negan not know how to pitch a tent? "Uh- yeah." He replied. He and Rick would always go camping on the long weekends when his dad would take time off. As a result, he knew a bit about camping gear.

"Atta boy!" Negan smacked Carl on the back, chuckling. "Knew you were fucking useful! I forgot Dwight was on tent duty, so you're the lucky son of a bitch!"

Carl was nervous for the next day. He tried to figure out the best way to speak with Michonne without anyone noticing. He hoped that he could easily move through the quarters to find her and if she would even be helpful. He began regretting his decision for a moment, but quickly snapped out of it. Negan was a monster that needed to be stopped! He lay in his sleeping bag wide awake. He sighed, deciding he would at least get some fresh air. Carl pulled his hoodie over his tank top, shivering from the cold air.

Negan stood by the fire. Carl didn't even think of him being on watch. He just assumed he could sit in silence as the other Saviors wouldn't bother talking to him. The boy contemplated going back inside of the tent, but the cool, damp air felt good on his face. He cursed himself as he found himself walking towards the fire. He was still not in the mood to talk to that brute.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Need to talk about something?" Through the light of the fire, Carl could see the beaming of Negan's face that probably outshone the fire.

"No, just needed some air." Carl stated bluntly, without invitation. He was serious. The fire was warm against his skin, contrasting with the cool air. It would be autumn soon, so the nights were getting colder.

Negan nodded in response. Lucille sat beside him, leant against his log. Negan rubbed the wood of his bat slowly, carefully feeling every grain of it. Carl couldn't help but watch. The monster seemed calm, at ease, in this moment of silence. He didn't know what the fuck was up with that bat, but it reminded Carl that Negan was at least a little bit human. A lunatic, but human.

"I don't trust him, Carl." The man stretched his arms behind his back, slouching on the log that looked way too small for him to be sitting on.

"Ezekiel?" Carl asked. He didn't care, but knew Negan wouldn't shut up if he didn't ask.

"No, Dwight! Dajaaj is the biggest chicken alive, I hope it was wise of me to leave the guy in charge. He's small, but I do see potential. I just hope I was playing my cards right. I can't risk another rebellion." Carl nodded in response. His interest grew in this topic. He could easily share this information with Michonne. "I see that in you, too, kid. I know I'm hard on you, but you need to know how much I trust you. You're Prick's son, I get it, but there is something about you…" Carl nodded, feeling his eye tear up. What the hell was going on? Why was he crying? "Aw, shit. Now we're gone and sappy. Dry those damn tears! You're too much of a man for that." Carl nodded. He was confused. Was Negan messing with him? He never saw him act like that before. He was actually a decent human being. "You know, I was a teacher, believe it or not. I taught gym class, but wasn't too popular with my students. I worked them hard because they felt like they were my kids. I work you fucking hard, too. Just as much as my other men. You're not a boy anymore, Carl. Men don't cry." Carl watched the man's face, somber, unchanging. He said this without feeling, as if a smile was a mask for the pain. "You're strong, Carl. Believe me. You still fucking scare the fucking fuck out of me." The giant brought his face close to the boy's. "But remember: I will always be stronger than you." This brought shivers down his spine. Even though it was obvious Negan was saying this to intimidate him, he knew there was some kind of truth in there. He continued to stare at the larger man, watching the stupid grin curve back on his face. A photogenic smile replaced the tension, but he was still bothered. "Christ. Why are you looking at me like that? I just gave you a motivational fucking speech. Told you my life story! Can't bond like a rope on a whore, oh no sir."

"I just don't know why you're telling me all this," Carl murmured.

"I have some fucking respect for you kid, that's why. You think I go around on my hands and knees kissing everyone's feet? You are a good asset to my group…and I trust you."

Carl nodded. Still trapped in his thoughts. He decided to let Negan talk to himself for a bit as he had clearly switched the subject entirely. The air was cool that night, a light breeze whispered against the forest trees. Carl liked this feeling – the feeling of blocking out the world around him and just take in the atmosphere.  
\---  
The ride to the Kingdom in the morning did not take very long. Carl was convinced that they could have made it to the Kingdom last night. Negan had taken some rations from the Hilltop to suffice his men for the trip. He still held high hopes that Ezekiel would cave in…Carl, however, did not. The boy decided to keep his mouth shut and figure out a way to talk to Michonne in private.

When they reached the edge of the Kingdom, Negan refused to hold back anymore. He stepped his large boot onto the ground, pulling himself off his motorcycle in confidence. "Watch and learn." It was clear that the lug was not going to take Carl's advice at this point.

"Who stands beyond the walls of the kingdom. Friend or foe?" A voice yelled from atop the fence. A tall man in full body armour was holding a gun towards them. He blinked for a second and ran away. When he came back, Michonne was following.

"Leave, motherfucker!" Michonne yelled. She propped up a snipper, ready to shoot at Negan. She was the only one in the Kingdom that didn't put on the medieval façade Ezekiel had set up.

Negan slowly walked closer to the Kingdom with his hands up. He chuckled to himself, holding a stupid grin on his face. "Come on, babe! We have history together! Just let me in, it'll be worth a while." How was this monster so calm about this? Carl stood up in his seat to get a better view from the windshield.

"Fat chance!" Michonne yelled. She was ready to shoot, but stopped abruptly. "Carl?"

Carl jumped out of the car, hoping this would work. "Michonne!"

"Um, give me a second." She quickly returned with Ezekiel, who did not look amused.

The old leader stood on the top of the wall, staff in hand. "Thou shan't collect our stuff!" he announced. "These people are tyrants that shan't be dealt with."

"Sure whatever, Your Fagisty," Negan grinned. His hands were still up, yet his words came out casually. "I'm trying to make a fuckin truce here. You know, forgive and forget? I give you a lap dance you give me a strip tease and we're fucking set to go? You're a good man, Ezekiel. Hell, I'm not a saint at all, but I can be a decent man. Why don't we go talk like adults? Leader to leader?"

"Silence!" the old man announced. He held his hand forward in the stop position. Carl watched as Michonne whispered something into his ear and then the ruler nodding in response. "Very well, you shall come in, but only if you bare no weapons."

"This is what I'm talking about! Fuck yeah!" Negan exclaimed. "Open the doors, men!"

Michonne and Carl shared a look as he followed the leaders through the Kingdom. She knew exactly what he was here for.


	10. Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies."

The Kingdom looked much different after the war. It was clear that supplies had also been low in this community as everyone was fighting. Some women were towing fields to grow new crops while the men cut fresh pieces of deer meat to feed the city. The children were out of school and helping out with the yard work. The once beautiful Kingdom was in just a bad shape as everyone else. He followed closely behind the men, passing by an erect statue of a tiger with Rest in Peace Queen Shiva engraved in a wooden plaque. The boy nodded at the piece of memory, she would be missed by everyone. He wondered if the King had healed from his loss yet. He suspected by the flowers laid out that at least someone was paying tribute. She was loved by everyone.

They passed a group of women who were taking care of the horses. Stitches had been sewed into their fragile skin, a clear result of the war. One of the women was brushing a small horse who had lost an eye. The hole had been stitched up, but the horse was still having trouble navigating. The horse stepped back from the woman, knocking over a bucket of water on his bad side. Carl knew it would take the little guy time to adjust.

Once they reached the doors, Ezekiel announced to his men to find room and board for Negan's men while the two had a one to one discussion. Carl decided this was the best time to speak to Michonne, but he was stopped when he went to follow the others.

"No, you don't." Negan deadpanned, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and directing him towards Ezekiel's office. Shit, Carl thought, how am I going to tell Michonne?

He decided to use this opportunity to see exactly how Negan planned on negotiating and what it really entailed. The office was just a renovated principal's office. Thin fabric draped over the cabinets. A small bowl of fruit sat on the large wooden desk, as well as a book Ezekiel had been reading. The king sat back in his chair, stretching his arms over his back. "Please," the King jestered towards a wooden chair that was placed close to the desk. It was so small that Carl was sure Negan would break it.

The lug sighed, slowly sitting on the too-small chair. It looked as if he was siting on a child's picnic bench. Negan's large, muscular legs were pressed up against his chest and he was clearly struggling to keep on the chair. He sat up, trying to spread his body out as much as he could. It was useless, pathetic. Carl had to hold in a snicker, watching that dick struggle on the children's chair. The boy decided to stay by the doorway -he didn't want to get into this anymore than he should have. He watched as the two men conversed, nodding or shaking his head whenever Negan looked back for his input. The monster wanted half of the Kingdom's supply, which Ezekiel quickly turned down. He didn't blame the old man; they had fought and lost so many people to get a fair deal. It was about time Ezekiel stood up for himself.

"The most I can do for you is a trade agreement. You don't scare me, Negan."

"Fair enough," Negan responded, rolling his shoulders back. "So you need more than protection?"

"Precisely," the old man responded. Negan looked back at the boy for validation. Carl quickly nodded.

"Go on…" Negan seemed displeased that his rules were not being followed. Carl was surprised he even stayed this long.

"We usually keep to ourselves, as you know, so many of my subjects stay inside the walls and produce inside the walls. This makes obtaining meat very difficult. I'm a big man, you're a big man. You understand how important this is to us." Negan nodded in response. Carl tapped his foot lightly, waiting for what the leader would say. "I'm giving you and I the night to think this over, but I am willing to give you produce if you give us meat. I am giving you another chance, Negan. You're lucky my Michonne is so close to your friend Carl." Since when was he Negan's friend? Ew.

"Fair. I'll think about it." Carl was shocked he was actually taking his advice. Maybe Negan was changing.  
\---  
"Your room," one of Ezekiel's subjects, Charles, led Carl to the room he'd be lodging in for the night. Charles was a young man, not tall in stature, definitely not small. His face stood serious, his lips a line across his caramel skin, his small eyes focused. His long hair was held back by a ponytail. "You have a tenant due to lack of room. I hope this is suitable." Tenant? Carl didn't even get the door half-way opened before it was pushed back closed. The subject knocked on the door calmly. "Miss, I hope it is okay that you will be having a roommate."

"With men? No thank you!" Rosalie yelled through the door.

"There are no more places, miss. Please-"

"What is this? The motherfucking inn? Tell Mary we all know she ain't no virgin!"

"Miss, please open the door or I will open it for you. I trust it will be easier to communicate face to face."

Carl heard a loud, exaggerated sigh before the girl opened the door. "Oh, Eyehole, it's you."

"Miss, I want you to be comfortable." He lowered his voice, breaking character, "just do me a solid here. I'll sneak you some snacks. I'm banging the rations girl."

A grin formed across the girl's face. "Only if there's Pringles. Fuckers are hard to come across nowadays."

"It's a deal, then." The man turned around and walked in the opposite direction, mumbling something inaudible.

"Okay, Grimes. Looks like we're roommates. Don't you dare try anything."

"Is that a threat?" Carl smirked.

"Yes. The snacks are mine, too. You sleep over there," she pointed to a mat in the corner. The room was very small and cramped, but more comfortable than sleeping on the floor in the Hilltop. He hoped she would be willing to spare a pillow or two.

Carl made his way towards the mat, sitting down with a sigh. He was happy to not be dealing with the tyrant anymore. Things were starting to shape up and he really believed Negan was changing. Carl still didn't trust him completely, however; Michonne needed to be in on the plan. Carl knew how manipulative Negan was and he wasn't going to let it phase him.

The room wasn't as bad as Carl thought it would be. Of course the Kingdom didn't have the same luxuries as Alexandria as many of the supplies were from the school, but it was still comfortable. Ezekiel had taken the time to preserve the paint on the walls, preventing rot and mold. Unlike home, Carl found the small room comforting. A tiny wooden bookcase stood on the far wall, adjacent to the mats. It was filled with mostly textbooks and spare blankets, but Carl didn't care- new books! He probably had read all the books in Alexandria and the Hilltop twenty times. There wasn't much else to do during his downtime considering video games took up too much energy and movie night had to be reduced to once a month. He made a mental note to ask to borrow some. He eyed them from his mat, deciding the best one to begin. A familiar book caught his eye, so he went to grab it. King Lear, the book Rosalie lent him. He picked it up and smirked goofily. "Good book."

"Yeah. You probably relate to it, Eyehole. You blind fuck," she giggled at her insult. Carl couldn't help but laugh along. Maybe she wouldn't be so annoying after all.

"Hey, I only have one of my eyes gone, Tree Stump."

Her laughing seized and her face turned serious once more. "Come up with better nicknames."

Carl was left speechless from her sudden change of emotions. He rolled his eyes and laid back on the hard mat. He needed to figure out a way to sneak out and meet Michonne. He decided that it would be best to sneak out of his room when everyone was asleep and hopefully get her alone.

He had closed his eye and had been pretending to sleep for a good two hours. He lazily opened his eye, craving the sleep he deprived himself of. He rolled over to his side, making sure Rosalie was asleep. He watched as her chest moved up and down with each breath. Again, he questioned how someone so disruptive could be so peaceful. He watched as her lips moved, mouthing words that wouldn't come out- a silent sleep talker.

The boy brushed himself out of the room, gently easing the door closed behind him. Carl carefully tip-toed past the rooms, the halls filled with the Saviors' snoring. He could swear he was in a cave of hibernating bears. He hid in the shadows when he heard someone passing by. It was Ezekiel and what sounded like one of his men.

"I have little trust for Negan, my boy."

"Yes, sir. He is a really sketchy person."

"Had he not been so diligent in his actions, my Shiva would still be alive, not torn apart but the wretched undead."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Worry not, my boy, for it is not your fault. I, King Ezekiel, should have been better prepared."

"Yes, sir."

"Relying on Jesus may have not been my best move. I allowed this evil inside my walls and I must rid it."

"So we're breaking the pact?"

"Not necessarily. He shall learn to earn my trust!"

Their voices muffled off into the distance as Carl crept slowly past more of the doors. He reached the balcony and slowly stepped outside. To his surprise, Michonne was outside. Her long dreadlocks blew in the wind and she stared emotionless into the night. Her eyes shone against the stars, but there was no knowing what was on her mind.

"How's it going?" Carl asked, joining her.

"Oh, Carl. I didn't realise you'd come here." Not a hint of surprise was in her voice, though.

"I figured we'd need to meet somewhere. I just wandered here while looking for you."

"Coincidence, eh?" They shared a smirk. "Guess spending all those years surviving together connected us. I saw that look you gave me and you are with Negan. What do you need?"

Carl lowered his voice into a whisper. "So I was talking to my dad in the hospital-"

"Oh my gosh, how is Rick doing?" she interrupted quickly.

"He's fine. Just a bad leg," and some lost dignity. "He has a plan to stop Negan and take our community back."

She raised her eyebrows in interest. "Uh huh, go on."

"I'm acting as a double agent. Negan seems to trust me for whatever reason, so I'm getting some intel on him."

"Have you found anything?"

"Not anything particular…" Carl lied. Why couldn't he tell her the truth? "My dad just wanted to make sure you're in on the plan, we can send people over on supply runs once Negan trusts all of us. From there, we can exchange information."

"I like what I'm hearing."

Carl smiled in response, watching the hope move through the woman's eyes, a grin flashing against her chocolate skin.

The boy snuck back into his room a lot easier than he had snuck out. The guards on duty were throwing a hacky sack back and forth and drinking enough beer for the Kingdom itself and then some. Clearly, they were bored, yet occupied. Carl slowly closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh.

"I know what you were doing out there. I heard everything," a voice deadpanned. He looked up, watching the girl sit up on her mattress, wide awake, not blinking, less emotions than a rock.

Carl sighed. "No you don't. I'm going to bed. Night."

He went to sit on his mat, but was stopped.

"I hope you sleep well tonight, knowing what I know."

Carl clenched his face in annoyance. "Stop fucking with me, Rose." He finally fell asleep to Rosalie's soft giggles. As he closed his eye he couldn't help from thinking, Is she really just fucking with me?  
\---  
Negan seemed jollier than usual when Carl and his men met him in the courtyard. This couldn't be good. "What a beautiful motherfucking day!" Negan announced, obnoxiously inhaling the air. "A little birdy told me there's been some lying and you know what happens when you lie – you're fucked. You're more fucked than a nymphomaniac in the red light district on a fucking Saturday! And to my motherfucking surprise it was one of my own men who fucked me, so it's time for me to fuck one of these deceptive fuckers before they jump up and fuck me so hard, I'll bleed outta my ass for a week."

Fuck, Carl thought. This would not turn out well. The boy sunk his head as low as he could, hoping Negan found someone else. He could take the monster one-on-one, but definitely not all of his men.

"Carl. Look me in the eye- because you only have one you hollow headed little shit. I want you to watch what I am about to do now. Be happy this ain't you." Before Carl could do anything else, he had stepped to the side, revealing Michonne, tied up to a chair. That motherfucker. The boy kept his cool- Negan was bluffing. He took a breath and focused directly on the chair. Michonne was eyeing Carl to help her and he badly wanted to. He clenched his teeth and gave the woman a sorrow look. "I was thinking we could get an ear of corn tonight, guys!" Negan chuckled. "Are you hearing me right now?" he cackled, pulling out a pocket knife. No. The maniac's grin tore through Carl's skeptical façade. Negan wasn't messing around. "If you like to hear so much, I hope this helps you out. Don't get me wrong, the only proof I have is that you were talking behind my back. For all I know, you could have been throwing me a fucking birthday party. That would be fucking awesome, but I'm not stupid. Hear me out. I. Don't. Trust. You." He pressed his knife towards the woman's ear. "I'll make this quick for you, sweetie." He quickly sliced the knife through her lobe, leaving nothing but a hole on the right side of her head. Negan's monstrous laughter filled the Kingdom as he lifted up the ear to show everyone. "Look, Carl, you guys match! Holy hole asshole buddies!"

Michonne managed to untie herself and held her hand up to the wound, attempting to stop the bleeding. She wasn't doing a good job as think red blood poured from the wound. She was in both pain and shock. She stood behind the monster, shaking, clearly contemplating her next move. She didn't have her katana, so someone else needed to defend her.

Carl squinted his eye, glaring at the monster who had just hurt his friend. "You have no proof, yet you still attacked her? You haven't changed, Negan. You're a bag of shit."

Negan was still grinning largely, but his attention was drawn to the boy. He burst into sarcastic laughter. "Where's the 'oh, Negan, you jolly son of a bitch. You fucking saint, Mother Theresa the second, making sure I'm getting fed and not being fed to the undead!'?" His expression narrowed, his eyes reading the boy's soul. "You know what, you little fucking shit? I'm gonna treat you like a fucking piece of shit." He stormed over to the van, dragging Carl by his arm. He propped open the trunk and pointed to it, aggressively pulling the boy in the direction. "In there. I can't even fucking look at you right now." He turned to the side, squeezing his nose.

"You're not stupid, Negan!" Carl retorted. "You're the one who trusted me!" He wished that he had ate his words.

"You fucking fucker!" was all he heard before his vision went blank.  
\---  
He sat in the dark box, unsure if it was night or day, how many hours had past since he woke up. The truck wasn't in motion, so it had to be at least the evening unless they were rummaging for goods. He cringed when he felt the blow he received to his good eye. He squinted his eye, rubbing his head. Carl needed to focus!

"The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies," he heard from the other side of the door.

"Rosalie-what?" he continued rubbing his head. He could feel dried blood crack against his knuckles. This was the last thing he needed.

"It's from the book I leant you. I know you don't hate Negan, Carl, and I'm sure Negan knows this. I thought the quote was appropriate… maybe make you feel better," he heard her whisper through the door.

He released an annoyed sigh. "Since when do you care about my feelings?"

"You need to stop pushing away people, Carl."

"But that's all you ever do," he groaned.

They sat in silence, back to back against the door of the truck.

"Do you still want to know why I trust Negan?"


	11. This Is War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You gotta be fucking kidding me…What the fuck is this Rick? We trying to play my dick is bigger than your dick? 'Cause it isn't." Rick? Who the fuck is Rick?

"You gotta earn your keep." Rosalie watched as the large man dropped a stack of papers on the desk in front of her and her family. "We have rules here I expect you to follow. You do your part, I do my best to protect you."

The girl eyed the factory office. The walls were moldy and the floor grimy. A desk stood in the middle of the room as the tall monstrous man sat, barely fitting in his chair. Two of his men stood at his side, armed with riffles and ready to shoot. She knew she shouldn't mess with them. She studied his face. His eyebrows burrowed into a serious grimace, his mouth intimidated the rest of his face, almost touching his long nose. He was huge and bulky- not someone to mess with.

Her brother held a piece of paper and examined it. "Wouldn't it be easier if you just told us the rules?"

"Would it be easier for you to shut the fucking fuck up?" Negan asked in a manner she was unsure if serious or not. Her question was answered with a grin from the giant. His white teeth gleamed, leaving her momentarily snowblind. "The main rules are: do your part and you will be rewarded with points for goods- a barter system if you will. If you steal, you lose a finger; if you rape, you lose your life; if you don't do your shit, you're outta here! You seem like smart people, you know how to keep your dick in your pants, so it would be a motherfucking shame if you let me down. Now just make sure I won't have to make an example of you." He strutted around the room, Rosalie's heart thumped with every step. "I will be locking you up for a few days in the basement until the interviewing process is complete. I expect you to go over the rules while you're down there-"

"You're seriously locking us up?" She blurted out.

He slouched across the table to meet her eyes. His gaze put a bad feeling in her stomach. "I'm not only serious. I'm dead fucking serious. If I wasn't, you'd be deader than a fuck's fuck." He was back on his feet before she could blink. "But after that, it'll be one big motherfucking party!"

He paused on the way out the door, dramatically smelling the air. "You smell like donkey's ballsack! My men will be down shortly with shit to help you clean up."  
\---  
"I went over the checklist with them, Sir. They seem to check in." The community doctor's assistant seemed to be the least tense in front of this leader… He-Man was it?

"Fix her stump yet?" He was seated with his back towards his man. She stood behind with her brother and Mother.

"Yes, Sir. Harlan finished their medical examinations. Their health is good for the most part..."

"And the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is the girl fucking infected? I thought that red-headed kid said he cut it off!" He-Man almost yelled.

"Uh...you should talk to him alone... "

Rosalie could swear she saw the man's face turn ghost white. "Show them to their room, John. I'll assign them jobs after we deal with this shitstorm." Shitstorm? She watched him sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
\---  
"Smells like shit." Rosalie said aloud. She ignored the grunt she received from the large man. She wouldn't let him intimidate her. That He-Man fellow, however, was questionable.

Her stump was still tender from the cut she received. One of those weird undead thingamagigies done went and bit her! Pulled on her perfectly braided hair no less. She knew what would happen if the bite wasn't taken care of- she'd seen the worst. Nicholas jumped up in front of the dead and pushed it to the ground, smashing its head. Its brains splattered everywhere, still made Rosalie cringe. Before she could think, she felt another sharp pain in her arm. She looked down at her injury to find there wasn't an injury at all- heck, there wasn't anything there! Thick blood oozed from the slice as she began to feel dizzy. She tried to scream, but couldn't hear anything coming out. She woke up to a bandage strung tightly around the wound. That was three days ago, they were found by some Saviors and brought back to the Sanctuary earlier today. It was better than being out in the cold fall air with a stump for a hand. The stitches Dr. Harlan did were decent. She reckoned if Nicholas did it, it wouldn't be short from a hack job.

Mother shut her right up with a slap to the back of the head. It stung, but she was used to it. "Close your damn mouth. Be happy they let us in. They seem like decent people."

Rosalie looked John up and down, focusing her attention on his milky eye. "Whatever you say." She swore she saw it blink at her.

"Pretty sweet arrangement you've got here. What's your stance on smoking?" Nicholas chimed in. He was already looking for a seshing buddy. Great.

John shrugged his large shoulders. "Who doesn't these days? Its a fucking mess out there!"

"Fuckin' eh!" He exclaimed receiving a slap in the head. Mother glared at him, using her eyes as knives to cut him down.

Rosalie did a scan of the room. Three mattresses were placed beside each other, taking up the majority of the room. What was left was a stack of lockers cramped in the corner. The walls had poorly placed wallpaper that was torn in numerous places and it was apparent they had a few rodent roommates. It smelled of mold and smoke from the factory -still better than the undead. At least it was warm in there, clearly insulated. She felt over her now healing stump. She was convinced it was infected, but was also relieved to feel less pain. She stretched out the fingers on her left hand, forgetting there was nothing. She brushed her pigtails back over her shoulder with her good hand, wondering if it was possible to learn how to tie it with her feet like a monkey! How cool would that be?

"Nicer than our arrangements before." Mother remarked. A crooked smirk creased her pale face.

"If you want nice, go to Negan's loft." John grimaced. Speaking of Negan, which must have been that big guy's name- He-Man was much cooler- the giant appeared at the door, armed with his barbed-wire bat and two men.

"You. Come with me." He motioned towards Rosalie. "John, the redheaded fuck is under your wing now. Go nurture him like a mother bird. Let him suck your tit when he's thirsty, eat your barf when he's hungry. You get the gist."

Suck his tit? Rosalie thought. She was only thirteen but even she knew birds didn't produce milk. Negan gave the man beside him, who looked like a nurse, a look as he entered the room.

She followed the man out of her room down the foyer. He towered above her, clutching his barbed-wire bat that currently had dried blood and pieces of flesh stuck to the edges. He smelled like sweat.

"Wha-what's up with your bat? Armouring it up like you're playing WOW?" she joked. First appearances weren't her best. Rosalie just relied on jokes to break awkward silence.

"No, she's more than just that," he grumbled. She?

"Oh, um… alrigh-"

"This beautiful, sexy, hell of a woman is Lucille," he continued, motioning to the bat. "Her past times include smashing the fuck outta people's brains out, fucking my brains out, and being so goddamned-cock-sucking-gorgeous." He stopped, dropping to his knees so he'd be at eye-level. "You will give her some goddamned mother fucking respect. Got it?"

She didn't say anything, just nodded. This man was fucking insane! Who put this lunatic in charge?!

As they passed by the many rooms the factory held, working men and women knelt before him. It was robotic, as if this was programmed into their mind with some sort of cyberyish chip. Were they another breed of undead? Would she become like them? She noticed the men and women going back to their work immediately as he passed by. It was clear they were scared of this Negan guy for some reason. So far he seemed like his head was full of rocks and she was sticking to it.

"Remember the point system I brought up?" he asked, stopping in front of a door. He didn't wait for her response, however, and pushed the door open. Shelves and shelves of supplies made up the room -weapons on one side, other commodities on the other. "This is where we keep our rations. If I trust you, it very well may be your job to run this motherfucker." He handed her a pen and clipboard. She struggled to keep both in her clutch. Her mind still told her that she had her left hand, so she automatically went to use both hands. "Yeah, you gotta learn how to work with one hand, no free handouts here, no sir!" She nodded. Luckily she lost her left hand and not her writing hand. She scanned the clipboard. Chicken scratched handwriting filled the page in a perfectly lined table. She was able to pick out that this board was used to take track of the rations and the points needed for them. Seemed easy enough. She squinted her eye at the table for cigarettes. Nick would definitely need to work his ginger ass hard for his fix!  
\---  
On her way back to her room, she passed by the infirmary. "Asian. Female. Late thirties. Light build. Possible intolerance to Advil," Rosalie heard Dr. Harlan's voice mutter. She peaked in to see him look at his clipboard in deep concentration. Not wanting to risk getting in trouble, she quickly made her way to her room.

She stopped abruptly when seeing Negan and two of his men standing in her doorway, speaking to Mother. The heck was going on? She quickly ran towards the door when her mother collapsed into the giant's arms.

"Mother!" she screamed. She pushed against Negan's leg, trying to get him to move out of her way, but it was useless! It was as if he didn't even feel her.

"Quick! Get her to the infirmary!" the leader yelled. She thought she heard a crack in his voice. She quickly moved out of the men's way as they booted it to the infirmary with Mother resting in their arms. She looked in the room for Nick, but he wasn't back yet. Her heart beat so fast she felt it would push out of her chest. She looked around the room, trying to figure out what to do- her mind wasn't working! Holy hell. Mom. Mom. Mom.

She snapped out of it and ran for the infirmary, demanding to be let in, but held back by the two large men. "Let me in!" she screamed, feeling tears fill her eyes. "What are they doing with her?!" She continued edging on until she could no longer muster the strength to stand up. The girl felt her knees fall weak as she fell to the ground. She grasped her legs to her stomach, feeling the tears run like streams along her face.

A red blob flashed into her disrupted vision. She blinked to get a better view. "Nicholas!" she screamed. "Help my mother, please!" she begged.

He shot his green eyes towards her, tears also running down his freckled face. He shook his head slowly and continued into the infirmary. What is going on?!

She must've fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes she was back in the mucky room. She rubbed her eyes and found herself alone in the room. She immediately went for the door to be stopped by John.

"L-let me see my mom!" her voice cracked. If they did something to her, who knew when they'd do the same to her.

"I-it…um… it's not a good idea," John said, not making eye contact. He was hiding something.

"What did you bastards do?!"

"Listen, we didn't do nothing, okay? Just calm the fuck down!" he was now glaring at her before his face softened. "She… she's not well, alright? Negan told me not to tell you this, but they think it's cancer. She's going to be staying in the loft for a while."

She felt her heart sink into her stomach. "Y-you're just messing with me," she half said to John, half tried to convince herself. When John's expression didn't change, she became more eager. "Mother's perfectly healthy! She could kick everyone's asses in an instant!" Still, no change. "Fuck."  
\---  
"This is where your mother's staying." She was guided into a large room with several couches and a large bed tucked up against the corner. Three women ran out from the side room and grabbed onto Rosalie's arms.

"You're coming with us!" one of them exclaimed. It took a moment to register that these two were clad in only their underwear. Cancer my ass! Mother is not a prostitute!

She was guided into the room, which was much warmer than the rest of the Sanctuary. An IV stood beside a small bed. Negan stood beside it with his back turned. Rosalie moved to get a closer look to see her mother was the patient. They weren't lying.

"M-mother!" she exclaimed. "Thank God you're fine! Let's go back to our room!"

Her mother weakly shook her head. "No, I'm staying here, Flower." She stood back.

Negan chimed in. "Your mother is very ill. I think it's best for her to stay with us until she's well enough to work. Your room is not large enough for the supplies and has no electricity to run the machines."

"Then I'll stay here, too!" she claimed, throwing her hand to her hips.

"Not a fucking chance," Negan responded. "You and Nicholas are working for your points. Your mother is unfit to work for her own points, so she will be registered as one of my wives."

"You're sick!" Rosalie yelled. How could someone have more than one wife? Her mother was already married, wherever her father was!

"Hold the fuck up," Negan held his nose in his fingers. "She's not gonna be like those broads who brought you in here. The wife title is just for formality. The way things work here is that everyone works for points. Everyone unless you're a wife, that is. Do you get it now?" Rosalie nodded slowly. It was all too much for her to process.

"Can I be a wife, too, then? So I can stay with Mother?" she asked.

Negan chucked. "Not a fat fucking chance, kid. You're still a kid and I may be sick, but I'm no pedophile. Do you know why my other wives don't need to work?" It took her a second, but she understood what he meant and her wide eyes told him. "Ex-fucking-actly!"

"Sir," a Savior interrupted. "You need to come immediately! This is an emergency!"

"Get the old man."  
\---  
Rosalie followed the leader out, but was held back before he walked out onto his balcony.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me…What the fuck is this Rick? We trying to play my dick is bigger than your dick? 'Cause it isn't." Rick? Who the fuck is Rick?


	12. Mizpah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why's her name Candycane? That's a weird ass name," Rose asked Shawna.
> 
> "'Cause she used to be a stripper."

"Tell them," the leader growled.

"The hilltop stands with Negan and the Saviors… if you stand against us now, you will no longer be welcome," the frail old man trembled. Negan had called for his men to bring him upstairs. Rosalie had no idea who this man was, but it was apparent that he meant a lot to both Negan and this Rick guy.

"And?"

"Your families will be thrown out and have to fend for themselves"

"And?"

"Go home now, or you'll have no home to go back to."

Rosalie watched as the leader whispered something inaudible to the old man, who she suspected to be the leader of the Hilltop, before he turned back towards the crowd. "You heard the man! Go home before you have no fucking home!"

She peaked out behind the giant, gazing at the armed mass that surrounded the Sanctuary. These people were by no means peaceful if they were going to hurt a community that helped Mother. She scratched her ear when she heard moaning coming from the room Mother was in. She must have been awake, but was clearly in pain.

"The fuck?" the leader continued. "I count eight guys. Fucking eight!"

"I didn't know…sorry"

"You said it was half their fucking army!" he screamed "You didn't know how many fucking people left your place?! You thought it was more than eight?!"

"I thought it was more."

"Pathetic." The leader scoffed, kicking the old man off he balcony. Rose's instinct was to go see if the man was okay, but was stopped by a stern hand.

"Come with me." It was a man who Rosalie hadn't met yet. A deep burn scar ran across the right side of his face, revealing his open eye. Veiny red burns scraped up his skinless face. She tried not to, but all she could do was stare in awe. Why wasn't her scar that bad ass?

"Cool scar…" she mumbled.

"I'm Dwight," he ignored her comment, seemingly bothered that she noticed. "Come on, we need to prepare the army in case this turns out bad." Turns out bad? She thought. How could it get any worse than this?

"Rosalie," she quickly responded. Dwight nodded in response, a friendly smile formed over his face. He reached into his vest and pulled something Rosalie could not figure out. She watched his heavily tattooed arm move up and down. Why was this man so fucking cool? He had a scar and tattoos? She watched as he squirted eyedrops onto his protruding eye, realising he could only blink on one side. Brutal, she thought, grinning to herself.

"I've considered your kind offer… and I'm thinking of an answer somewhere between no motherfucking way and go fucking fuck yourself."

Dwight tightened his grip on her arm, dragging her out of the room. "We need to go… Now!" He dragged her down to the first floor and told her to wait by the door. That it was too dangerous to leave the building. Her question was answered before she could ask when she heard the cacophony of gunfire. Despite the tone of his voice, he peered down at her with an almost comforting face. She nodded and covered her ears. She gasped in shock when her left ear could hear everything, but there was no time to bother thinking.

Negan was outside instructing the Saviors on what to do. She could only watch so much as her vision was obstructed from this floor.

"Negan," she heard a woman whimper. Rosalie turned around, facing one of his wives. She was very young, probably about Nicholas' age. He was her brother after all they'd been through, yet she still hadn't asked his age. Sixteen? Seventeen? Maybe eighteen? Her long blonde hair, reached past her breasts, making her look more like a mermaid than anything else. Rosalie reckoned the wife didn't even need to wear a shirt and just pretend she was Ariel. That would be the life…Rosalie sighed. I wanna be a mermaid, damn it!

"It's gonna be okay, Candycane," another wife whispered. Candycane? The fuck? She was tall with medium, brown hair. She looked older than Candycane, but was still beautiful. "Negan knows what he's doing." Rosalie watched as the woman held onto the other woman tightly. Candycane buried her face into the other woman's chest, shaking vigorously.

"Th-thanks, Sherry." Rosalie could barely hear the wife whimper into the woman's chest. Sherry patted Candycane on the head lightly.

"Dwight told us to watch over you, so don't stray too far." Another wife with dark skin and a large afro said. Her lips were pursed into an unamused expression. "Candycane's being a little bitch and losing confidence over our Neegy-poo," Neegy-poo? "He's kept us together for this long; I trust he'll deal with it and those motherfuckers will be outta here!"

Rosalie nodded in response.

"Neegy was helping them, you know?" the woman continued.

"He was?" Then why the hell were they acting so hostile towards him?

"Yeah, they provided us with shit in exchange for their protection. We Saviors are the strongest out there- well, I guess not us wives, but the ones our muffin sends out are the cream of the crop. Scary fuckers, I don't suggest you mess with them. Dwight- the guy with the fucked up face who brought you here- is one of Neegy-poo's top men… just don't mention him in front of Sherry."

Sherry gave the woman a dirty look. "Shut up, Shawna! Who knows what this bitch knows…"

This bitch? "Well you can fuck off!" Rosalie blurted out. She quickly took back her words, unsure of what came over her. She prayed it wouldn't cause her repercussions.

Sherry just erupted into a throaty laugh. "I like this one. Who are you?"

"Rosalie, my mother's the woman upstairs," she smirked cockily at Sherry's change in tone.

"O-oh, then I'm sorry for calling you a bitch, I thought you were a new wife…we can get kind of jealous…"

She heard Shawna kiss her teeth in response. "Oh heeeeelll no! You are a lying little tramp!" Shawna yelled. "You think this child is one of us? Do you think so little of Negan, you think he'd be fucking a twelve year old? Disgusting!"

"I'm thirteen, though…" Rosalie mumbled as if it would make a difference. Teen was in her age, so she definitely was no child.

Sherry rolled her eyes and retuned to soothing Candycane.

"Why's her name Candycane? That's a weird ass name," Rose asked Shawna.

"'Cause she used to be a stripper."

"W-what?"

"Yeeeup! Sophisticated ladies like me and unfortunately Sherry were housewives, but most of Neegy's wives are ex-strippers." Rosalie smirked in amusement. This place was wild- Rose would have fun here.

"So about Dwight's scar-"

Their conversation was interrupted by the noise of a car zooming through the Sanctuary gates, which were holding the undead thingies.

"Fucking shit!" was all she heard before Shawna dragged her deeper into the factory, out of the way of the men who burst through the front door in piles. She was surprised at how fast the wives could run in heels.  
\---  
"The fastest way to a man's heart is through his vagina." Negan stated, staring down at a short haired blonde woman. He had called everyone to the cafeteria to meet his hostage. Rosalie decided to drown out the long, boring speech the leader was making and instead looked around at her surroundings. Man did this Negan guy talk a lot- he was worse than her!

The wives sat at one of the cafeteria tables while the rest of the Saviors stood around Negan. Candycane was now on her own, looking relieved to see the leader alive. Several of the Saviors had run into the room with weapons, ready to fight. Dwight stood at a table just behind Negan, leaning back. She stared at his muscular arms, taking in the images of his tattoos. Her eyes drifted up to his face, to look at his scar once more. This man was such a fucking badass. She wasn't sure if she wanted him or to be him… I wouldn't mind both… She was lost in a trance, taking in every detail of his handsome face. She gave no bother to any age gap- he was candy to her eyes. Besides, she was a teen, after all. She caught herself smirking, feeling flustered all over. Rose was sure her pale face was flushed tomato red. She never felt such a feeling before. Boys were gross! What was wrong with her?

"You." The sudden voice erased all thoughts from her mind, grabbing Rosalie's attention. She turned around to see John staring down at her.

"Yeah?" She asked, annoyed he had taken her out of her happy place. What a dick…

"Don't fucking yeah me. That's rude as fuck!" he scoffed. Rosalie stood there, wishing he would stop wasting her time. "You know how to kill a meat-puppet?"

"Meat-puppet?" The hell was he talking about?

"Walker, biter, undead- whatever you want to call it! Can you do it or not?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed without a second thought. This was her new home now and no matter how weird this Negan guy was, he was helping Mother stay alive. She owed him her life.

"Clear out!" the leader exclaimed. "The faster we do this, the faster we can get to planning our next move!"

She followed the Saviors out and was immediately met with the undead. It was very loud, a cacophony of moans and groans escaped from the frightening monsters. The leader was calling out orders, but she couldn't even make out the gist of it. She held onto her knife as she stabbed the undead as they drew towards her. She dug her knife in and out of skulls, drenching her body with the unruly scent that lingered. Feeling confident in herself, she began diving deeper and deeper into the herd, stabbing the monsters one by one as they grabbed and bit at her. Realising the stupidity of her actions, she quickly turned to move back to the factory, but was stopped by the herd that had gathered around her.

There-There's too many! It was her last thought before her mind went blank.  
\---  
The dim lights of the movie theatre stung her eyes as the movie had come to an abrupt stop Mother had dragged her to an annoying period film and the girl couldn't help but dose off. Who cares about those long-dead men? Rosalie was woken up by the cries of terror. She jumped up, quickly looking around, squinting to watch as the movie-goers fled from the theatre, as others were being devoured by some kind of monster! She blinked her eyes and rubbed them with both hands.

"Mother?" she called when she looked over to where Mother was supposed to be sitting. She felt her heart stop and become swallowed into her stomach. No… this can't be happening! Out of instinct she fell to the ground, covering her head in hopes she would not be seen. The girl pulled the hood of her hoodie up and over her head and curled into the smallest ball she possibly could on the sticky theatre floor. She trembled, unable to keep still as tears streaked down her cheeks. All that was heard were the screams of the innocent and growls of these…cannibals?

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the sounds out. She grabbed onto the cross Father had given her before he left for the war and pressed it to her forehead.

"It will give you strength," he said. She knew this was bullshit now, but for that single moment in the movie theatre, this was her last reliance before being taken over by death. Tears continued to stream out of her eyes that she was trying so hard to squeeze closed. Rosalie knew all was over when she felt a hand graze over her back. She refused to move, hoping if she pretended to be dead, it would go away. Instead of grabbing her, the hand tapped her back again. Hesitantly, she drew her head up slowly to see the face of a freckled-faced teenage boy. His green eyes were deep with concern as he held his hand open for her to get up.

"It's okay," he whispered, "I'm not one of them. We need to get out of here. You can trust me." The look in his eyes was so genuine that on instinct she grabbed onto him as he pulled her out of the theatre, avoiding the monsters on the way out.

The lobby was full of even more of the monsters! From floor to ceiling, all was painted in fresh blood and guts that made the girl feel sick. She managed to stop crying as nausea took her over. She slowed herself down, knowing she wouldn't be able to make it until…blegh! She threw up on the floor beside her, feeling snot and tears flow along with it. Her head ached. The boy pat her on the back before quickly pulling her to the emergency exit. He pressed the heavy door, almost struggling with his frail body. His eyes were blood-shot red and she could swear he was one of them- yet he was still helping her.

The bright light of the fall afternoon blinded her for a moment. She gazed around the parking lot that was surprisingly pretty empty. Her eyes locked on a familiar face.

"Mother!" she cried, letting go of the boy's hand. She jumped into her startled mother's arms, almost knocking the poor woman down. All sense of nausea was lifted instantly.

"Yes, Flower, it's me. I'm fine, calm down. I'm glad you were able to find your way out to me!" Her mother was never affectionate, but Rose knew her words were full of love. "Who's that?" Rosalie looked behind her, totally forgetting about the boy who saved her.

She ran towards him and grabbed his arm. He bashfully scratched his orange head, meekly grinning at the woman. "Nick." He stated. He held out his hand, which Mother ignored.

"Yuri," her mother introduced herself. "You saved my daughter, Rosalie. I'm grateful."

He continued grinning, stepping around on his feet as if he was waiting for something.

"You want to come with us? We need a strong boy to protect us girls-"

"Mother, really?!" Rosalie interjected, surprised by her actions. The girl became giddy with thinking of all the things she could do with her saviour. They could stay up late playing cards, gossip, he could sneak her chips, they could play basketball… he'd be like her brother! Rosalie had never had siblings before!

"Yes, Flower," Mother replied with a look that told her to calm down. She cleared her throat. "Nicholas, was it? What do you say?"

"Sounds dope," he replied, lighting up a gross smelling cigarette.  
\---  
Rosalie's eyes shot open as she took in her new surroundings. What happened out there? She was lying down on one of the picnic tables in the cafeteria, dumbfounded by how she got there.

"Oh, you're awake."

The sudden voice startled her, causing her to abruptly jump onto the ground. She immediately regretted it as she felt the sting run from her feet to her thighs. Wait, was that Dwight?

"I knew you weren't hurt too bad, but you have got to stop being stupid, okay? How do you expect to survive if you're just going to walk into a herd!" he yelled. Rosalie cringed backwards, slowly sitting onto the bench. She didn't respond. She couldn't even look the man in the eyes. "You almost got me killed! Yourself killed! You should know better than anyone else what those meat-puppets can do!" She nodded her head. So, it wasn't the undead that scarred him?

"Did you save me?"

Dwight sighed, sitting beside her. "Yes. I'm sorry for being harsh, Rose, but I was so damned worried about you. If I hadn't done anything, imagine how Negan would have reacted?" She inched closer to the man, having the sudden feeling to touch him. She grew close enough to wrap her arms around his broad stomach.

"Thank you," she whispered. The man was tense, but quickly relaxed, placing his hand on top of her hair. He slowly brushed it, setting Rose's face on fire. She kept her head buried into his chest so he wouldn't see. She had no idea how long they had sat there for, but Dwight needed to leave for a meeting. She was sent into the pantry to take stock of inventory, instructed that Negan wanted her to hand out half-portions of rice.  
\---  
Rations duty was extremely slow and boring. Rosalie was excited to join a new group, hoping to meet girls her own age so they could talk about makeup and boys…not that Mother ever let her wear makeup, but the thought was nice. Instead, she was alone and she eventually found herself reading more often than not. Since the war had started, she was pretty much always alone, save for the wives who occasionally went downstairs to keep her company. There were numerous books in the pantry, two points to rent them out for a week. She took her time sifting through the shelf until the pile was almost empty. She was particularly interested in a book about this sparkling vampire. She felt the same way the main character felt when she was able to catch quick glances over at Dwight as he was leaving with Negan's men. She wondered if he also sparkled in the sunlight and could jump from tree to tree. Dwight was really cool, so Rosalie was sure he could if he tried. She caught herself drooling over the imaginary personality she had given to him as she only spoke to him directly like twice or something. It killed time, so she wasn't complaining. She had even told Shawna about her fantasies, receiving a hyena-like laugh and was advised to keep it to herself. Shawna quickly became one of Rose's favourite people to talk to. She didn't treat her like a kid and was the closest to a friend she'd had in a long time.

At night, she found herself lying in bed, waiting until Nick came back. When he returned from training with the Saviors, they would enjoy each other's company into the wee hours of the morning. The quiet air of the factory brought an uncomfortable ambiance, leaving even Sleeping Beauty with insomnia. Nicholas kept her occupied with tales from his adventures outside of the factory.

"And what about Dwight?" she quickly asked one day. A little too quickly and eagerly.

"Rose, stop it. That's weird," Nicholas' tone turned stern.

"The fuck, Nick?"

"Don't get involved with him, it's creepy. You're like half his age. Keep your mind occupied on something else." Well, fuck you, too, she thought.

"Like drugs, Nick? Should I spend all my time thinking about smoking it up with the fellas? Getting sooo fucking high, bro?" she blurted out. She didn't know how to keep her damn thoughts to herself.

Nicholas shook his head and smiled lightly. "You're too naïve, Rose." With that he pulled the covers over his head and slump into a deep sleep.  
\---  
Nicholas' words stuck in Rosalie's mind for a few weeks as she worked in the pantry. Fuck him. He didn't know what he was talking about. She heard the Saviors were going out the next morning and decided she'd join them and show Nick who the naïve one was. He wasn't going on this trip, either, so it was the perfect timing.

She quickly sneaked outside the factory and hid behind some boxes, watching the Saviors load up on the trucks. She ran as fast as she could when she saw the opportunity and hid inside one of the trucks, hoping it was one of the right ones. She silently cheered when the engine of the truck roared. She sat back and relaxed until they reached a stop.

"Rick! Come out, come out, wherever the fuck you are! Don't piss your panties yet. Lucky for you…right now, I just want to talk. I hope that got your attention. There's plenty fucking more where that came from," she heard the leader yell. A group of men had already opened the back of the truck to retrieve their weapons, so she was all ears. Rosalie peaked over at the leader, who cockily stood in front of the gates of what she assumed was Rick's community. Rick, the violent man who started war when her leader didn't even want it. She growled lowly, watching Rick's men open the gates to let in a masked person. Screams of horror shot from the community. "Attack!" the leader screamed before the Saviors open-fired.

She looked around to find Dwight, he was the reason she was there, after all. The sun didn't sparkle on his skin, but that was a-okay. He ran pretty fucking fast, so that was there. Dwight was running towards the wall, guiding a group of men. Rosalie felt her heart beating fast. He was so cool. "Like Negan said, spread out- but throw them over the walls. Hurry before they can organize a counterattack!" she heard him announce. It took everything out of her to not jump out of the truck and give herself to him.

Before she could bring her head back, an enormous explosion shook the Saviors, sending several of them struggling on the ground, and many more dead. She was dizzy from the hit, but was able to watch Dwight quickly take out his gun and shoot a Savior in the head. What the hell? That was not friendly fire! Rosalie still tried to convince her otherwise, Dwight was cool, he was perfection…but she couldn't when Dwight continued shooting his own men. He then turned to speak to the long haired hippy-dude who was standing at the gates. She couldn't believe it. Nicholas was right! She wasn't going to let him know that, of course.

She watched the hellstorm brew as bullets and grenades sprang everywhere. Dark smoke loomed over the community, indicating it was on fire. More and more flashes of grenades and bullets filled her vision. Rosalie was sure she'd lose her sense of hearing at this point. The fight went on for maybe half an hour and she breathed a sigh of relief when it all died down. She was still pissed off about Dwight and needed to get back home so she could bitch about it to Shawna or Nicholas.

"Retreat?! How fucking stupid are you? This isn't a fucking retreat! Look back at the fucking sky, dick hole. You see that fucking smoke? What the fuck do you think that means?! You aware of a fucking fire station nearby? Hear the sirens of a fire-fucking-truck approaching? Because otherwise… that means we just fucking won." The leader yelled.

We won? Oh my God we won! They could finally go back home and she could bitch and moan and Nicholas wouldn't be out of the Sanctuary so often anymore! Rosalie smiled in glee. She was no longer bothered by Dwight- hell, she reckoned she forgot all about him. All she was feeling was the feeling of sweet victory and she owed it all to their leader, Negan. He truly was her Savior.

They took a detour when Negan ordered his men to get out of the truck once again. This time, he was sending the undead to attack a warehouse, telling his men to wait. When the door burst open, he ordered his men to kill all of the undead and he began yelling at something that fell out of the building. Rosalie's questions were answered when she saw the leader pick up an overweight man by the ponytail and instruct his men to beat him unconscious. With that, they were on their way back to the Sanctuary.  
\---  
She was still elated at the Saviors' victory against that stupid-head Mick…. Or was it Rick… Dick….Nick? Nick? She almost smacked right into Nicholas when she was lost in her thoughts. She hadn't managed to get caught, so her confidence was high. "Hey, Nick!" she exclaimed, smiling at him. "Did you hear the news?!" Something was wrong. She could tell by the silence that emitted from the boy and the sad look he gave her. Rosalie's face dropped. What happened? "Nick…" she whispered.

He stepped forward, clasping his hands around her back and pulling her tightly into his chest. He was a lot taller, so he rested his chin on her head. "Rose… something bad happened and I don't think it's what you're happy about…"

"Bad…" she whispered.

"I-it's terrible," she heard him whimper. "Y-your mother-" his breath hitched in his throat, unable to end the sentence, but Rosalie knew all too well what he meant.

"That's not funny, Nick. You shouldn't joke about that!" she scolded him. She tried to pry his hands off her, but he didn't budge.

"Rose, I'm serious…she's-" Before he could end his thought, she was finally able to wiggle out of his arms and run towards Negan's room. She would prove him wrong! How dare he joke about her mother! Maybe Nick wasn't really her brother at all!

She burst through the doors, much to the wives' surprise and ripped open the door to Mother's room. It was empty. Her stomach was empty. Her heart was empty. All that was in that room was emptiness. She felt tears well up and didn't even try to stop them. Her heart was broken. Why? What the fuck, God? She screamed internally, realising there was nobody above her protecting her. There was no good left in this world. The only sliver of hope still remained in Nicholas, the only one who could protect her. She wasn't sure if that was even true. Was she reminding herself or just convincing herself? Mother was hard on her, but she kept her out of trouble. Rosalie knew her place. She almost ripped the elastics out of her hair, letting her long locks fall over her face. Hair sticking to her tears, hand grabbing clumps of hair- hand? She looked down irritated at her stump. No. Everything is wrong. This is just shit! Her heart was filled with sorrow as she felt like giving up just there. Papa is probably dead, too! And who knows, that Rick the dick dude could kill Nicholas! She made her vow at that moment, refusing to let God protect her for he was dead, too. The girl ripped off her necklace and threw it across the room. She really considered taking her own life this time- what could she do? Rosalie was a useless, orphaned child who couldn't even fight! Her tears of sorrow changed to tears of agony- unbearable pain she had never felt before. She hid her face in her knees, not looking up, even when she felt Nicholas touching her shoulder in comfort. She didn't dare look up that night, even when Shawna brought her food and a covered her in a blanket.

"Wanna stay here tonight? You can sleep on the couch, sweetie. Neggy and the girls all sleep on one bed, so it's no biggie-" She heard a sigh before hearing the woman gently placing the plate on the floor in front of her. "I'm not sure what to say to you, but-" Rosalie heard her sigh again before feeling two arms wrap around her and pull her closer to the body. She rest her head on Shawna's large boobs, refusing to look up. They would stay there the entire night, falling asleep on the cold factory floor together until morning.

"Thanks, Shawna." Her throat was dry, hardly able to let out a whisper.

"It's okay, honey, Neggy-poo sent me here. He might not look like it, but he was worried. He's just a dragon fruit- spikey on the outside and sweet on the inside. Ya just gotta look past it."

"Hmm, Negan?" she mumbled. She wasn't ready to get up yet, so she brought Shawna into another hug. "Thanks for staying, though."

Shawna smiled down at the girl and ran her fingers through her hair. "Your hair's a mess. Want me to braid them for you?" Braid them? Rosalie's face grew white. Nobody had braided her hair except her mother. She struggled keeping tears from forming. Rosalie snapped her head up, almost hitting the other woman.

"No!" Seeing the surprised expression on the woman's face, she lowered her tone. "I mean, maybe just a ribbon so I can tie it up in a ponytail. You don't need to help me." Her words were strong, but she wasn't. She kept her smile as she felt tears fall down her cheeks. The woman nodded kindly in response and stood up to get her a ribbon.

"Maybe it can also help make those loose-fitting clothes fit you," she heard Shawna murmur.

Rosalie was unable to work for a couple of weeks afterwards. Every time she went to stand up, her body just slumped back onto her bed. There were no more tears left to cry. Nicholas was hit hard, too, but he was strong enough to go back to work the next day. She could still sense his pain, however, by the fact he was coming home higher every night.  
\---  
On her day back to work, she was alone. The person who had been taking her place was nowhere in sight so she couldn't even properly thank them. Rosalie just focused on making the rations list up to date. She was baffled at the decrease in stock- the war really did hit them hard. The once stocked shelves looked almost empty in comparison to when she first arrived. How many Saviors were there? One hundred? Two hundred? She never bothered to count.

The leader burst through the doors and began rummaging through the supplies, his swearing getting louder by the second. "Motherfucking fuck Dorothy on top of the fucking rainbow!" he blared. Rosalie stayed in her spot, pretending to be busy keeping track of rations.

"No motherfucking rations, Tara?! What the fucking fuck?" he began seething. She could swear he was foaming from the mouth.

The woman beside him, Tara, stood uncomfortably at the door.

The leader squeezed his nose between his fingers, calming down, before turning his head towards Rosalie. "We're cutting the fucking rations by 70%! Can you do math? You look like you can do some fraction shit, right?" Rosalie just starred at him. Negan must have taken it as a yes because he turned around to leave.

"Sir," she called, kneeling on the ground before him.

"Get the fuck up here when you speak to me! It looks like you're waiting to suck my rod and that's creepy. Kids like you should be sucking fucking lollipops, not long, veiny, hard cocks!"

She stammered, quickly standing up. "Uh, I just wanted to say thanks for sending Shawna to comfort me and stuff…"

"Thanks? Fucking thanks? Show me that you're thankful by not fighting out there! There is no mother-titty-fucking way I am losing more of my people! And don't think I didn't notice you sneaking onto my truck! I've got eyes fucking everywhere! Don't fuck with me." He seemed angry, by the way he stormed out, slamming the pantry door, but Rosalie knew his intensions were good.

She sighed and sat down on the floor. More work to do, great. She rubbed her face with her hand, becoming irritated that all she could feel was her goddamn stump against her cheek. The quiet sound of rummaging came from the side of the room where the rice was. Rosalie looked up. "Hmm who are you?" she whispered to the tiny grey mouse who had made its way into the room. "You don't have a name, do you?" The mouse squeaked. "Alright, Imma call you Astrid- you don't have a dick, right?" She gently picked up the mouse and inspected its genitals. "Astrid it is, then," she confirmed. She held her new best friend in her hand, stroking her head with her stump. Astrid sure was cute.

"Who's that?" Mother asked, taking a seat next to her.

"Astrid. She's my best friend! Pretty, ain't she?" she smiled and held the rodent out so Mother could get a better look.

"I see."


End file.
